


Well Scry me a River

by An_Ephemeral_Walk



Series: Mixed Media [4]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, if youve read ambidextrous you know what i mean, my other stories and their denizens make apperances, one forest is definitely harmed though, some violence, surprisngly minimal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 37,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22709578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Ephemeral_Walk/pseuds/An_Ephemeral_Walk
Summary: Usually when someone takes a quick dip in a pool, it results in fun times and or cleanly times. But not when that well is home to a scrying god. Then, quick dips don't exist. It becomes more of a universe tour that the guest has no chance but to endure for as long as they live. One brother falls in, and no amount of godly status helps when it comes to a Domain that's capable of being pettier the more threats rain down on it. It's not like the other gods cared before, why should it matter now?A little off-shoot of the others in this series. Just a fun side-project more than anything, reading the others in the series might be wise.
Relationships: Cuphead & Mugman (Cuphead), Hints of others
Series: Mixed Media [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1322168
Kudos: 8





	1. Well, well, well.

Cuphead squint at the paper before him. Drawing straight lines on stone was near impossible and made the silly prompts all the more difficult. A new game they’d learned, where one would decide on a thing, the rest would draw, and the impartial well and Cuphead’s brother would try to guess what the thing was. They traded places, who was drawing, who chose a thing to draw, and who judged, but currently it was him and Jendy drawing, Bendy picking words, and Mugman and the well trying to guess. They were taking a minute break after the last one ended with Mugman guessing Cala Maria when it really was a bicycle. Which led to Jendy cheating. Or at least, that’s what Cuphead declared.

He was just practicing now, not really drawing anything but his eye began to twitch when the ink formed a different shape. The way the ink demon snickered made it clear, despite pretending to be distracted with his own paper, it wasn’t the water under the paper that was distorting the image. He narrowed his cherry red eyes at the other, visibly debating after the image he’d tried drawing turned into a poorly drawn bird. Or just a heavy squiggle, it was hard to tell. Bendy kept chatting away with Mugman, gleeful in his debate on the next theme for words. Mugman sat by the well, back to the water, legs tucked under him.

When the next drawing came out as a poorly drawn Bendy face sticking its tongue out at him he threw the paper in the air and let out a war cry. Jendy shrieked, scrabbling to his feet, claws digging through pristine white gloves to gouge into the ground, giving him purchase where his slick soles failed. It wasn’t that Jendy hated him, or that Cuphead wanted nothing more than to stomp the jerk out of existence. Not really, watching how violently the golden fires of his brother’s domain had purged and gouged each truly vile soul from the ink was enough to soothe most of his ruffled feathers. But Jendy was mischievous, far more so than Bendy.

Hence, through the games—when being serious—though he didn’t quite cheat, it was obvious he was manipulating his own ink to draw most of the art for him. That stopped after little hearts started dotting Mugman’s page instead of the whale he’d been trying to draw. The shoe was held aloft. The ink turned into a picture perfect near three-dimensional whale, and if Cuphead hadn’t been laughing so hard, he’d have gotten a point for guessing right instead of Bendy.

That was the last round, this round was currently ending in a scuffle between a porcelain deity and a cackling ink demon. Bendy had thrown his hands in the air, crying how Jendy knew that wasn’t what they looked like and the rendition was insulting more than anything. Mugman had made a noise, but that was right as Cuphead sprint past him, knocking him off balance.

“Oh okay—” He’d managed as he toppled backwards into the waters of a deity with a Domain all too eager to do as it always did to things within it. Mugman wouldn’t hit the bottom, and he certainly wouldn’t float to the top, but he’d come back out, coughing and sputtering, muttering death to the stones below him. Except, it wouldn’t be in his universe. Not when he’d fallen into a Domain of scrying, one that saw what could have been, what might be, what was reality simply by a single change of fate.

Topside, Bendy froze mid word, having seen it. Cuphead was too focused on showing Jendy what he’d learned from Henry at the theater. Jendy, hearing the building scream of horror from his technical twin, choosing to ignore it, stuck his tongue out and dodged. It wasn’t until the surprisingly loud booming voice of the one in the well shook the stones and sent everyone scrambling away.

“Knock it off!” He’d shouted at the top of non-existent lungs. After his head had stopped rattling, Cuphead had started to grumble, only to realize that the other wasn’t finished, just quieter now that he’d got their attention. “I can’t direct him back here, I can’t even find him! I don’t want to learn if Bon Bon can truly carry out her threats!” 

“Who?” He’d asked, and then Bendy spoke.

“Ya knocked Mugman into the drink!” The other ink demon hardly cared that Jendy’s accent was bleeding onto his side again, not when he finally managed to speak out loud what he’d been ranting in the ink. Jendy’s jaw dropped, he looked at the spot Mugman had been, then at the water that had splashed up, then at Cuphead, then dove for the edge of the pool.

“Doll? You okay?” He called out. The face that appeared on the surface squint at him, then at a frightfully colorless Cuphead.

“Send word out for my Brother, and I’m telling Bon Bon, you know better than to start fights by me!” He scolded even as his Domain crooned and excitedly began the twists and turns it could and would take its newly acquired guest on. Cuphead immediately followed Jendy, diving to the edge in search of angry blue and white.

“There’s no need to bring Mama Bon Bon into this… he’s gonna pop right back up right?” The young god bashfully asked. All he got in return is a deadpan stare of disapproval.

“Get my brother.”

“I’ll just go in and find him! Sides, I went in and came back up real quick after!”

“You were gone for a while, actually.” Jendy tossed in, slowly inching closer to the water. He was snatched up by a sturdy hand, and if he hadn’t caught Bendy’s shout of ‘Don’t bite!’ he’d have made use of his ability to shift his body like Devil shaped his own, taking ideas of basic anatomy and laughing at them when the mood suited. He still squirmed in the hold of the wisdom god who currently held his cane like a warrior held their sword.

“Not while there is no fire to burn off whatever ink stains my brother.” Elder Kettle hissed. Cuphead stared harder into the water, fingers clutching the edge of the fountain tightly. “What happened?” The former caretaker of the cup brothers asked, though it wasn’t phrased gently and understanding at all. Cuphead shot up out of habit, and pointed at Jendy.

“He started it!”

Jendy pointed back at him, already dripping out of Elder Kettles grip. “He finished it!”

“I do believe I recall both myself and Bon Bon telling you not to play fight around my sibling, did we not?” Elder Kettle used his height to stare Cuphead down. Cuphead’s face began to bloom red with embarrassment.

“We were playin a game and then he _cheated_ , and ‘sides, Mugs won’t get hurt in there, will he?” It was the earnest, confused, worried way Cuphead held himself that soothed much of Elder Kettles ire. He ignored the ink demons now elbowing each other beside him.

“Cuphead, my sibling does not have an easy Domain to reason with. Things that fall in, don’t often come back out. They get lost or crushed or taken by whatever lies in what could have been. It was ordered by Mugman’s to pay special attention to you, and it did because it owed him for clearing my brother of ink. It owes you nothing, and certainly won’t show special favors.”

“It’s already dropped him in a different place, I don’t know where, but he’s not in the water anymore.” Elder Kettle’s brother tossed in. Cuphead began to rattle, worry building sharply in his chest.

“But I was fine…” He almost whined, shifting back towards the water, mind swiftly making a decision that was even more quickly nipped at the bud. He was lifted from the ground where he’d been starting to step off the ledge to get into the water. His own Domain, shadowy water spilling from pitch robes and shaded fur and bone snatched him in to the air where he dangled like a kitten in its mothers’ mouth.

“No one may enter the water!” Elder Kettle cracked his cane down sharply, making it an order as he began to make his own way to the edge. “It will not spit you out where he was, it doesn’t work that way. No one enters the water, no one does _anything_ to the well. Let me at least see if we can’t find him and be sure of his safety.” The elder god sat at the edge, dipping his legs into the water, immediately the water began to ripple as magic drenched the air around the clearing. Both Domain’s began age old chatter, one at the behest of its beloved child, the other in gleeful amusement.

The domain of scrying wasn’t malicious in its hold of the new one, not when that one held a domain as well, but it wasn’t keen to stay focused in one place, having already forgotten where it’d dropped him. Or perhaps it had in one world, but it supposed in this one it knew just where he was. The magic from its partner threaded around the waters edge, forming a mirror like surface. Images started to flicker on the sheet flat water, but not what they wanted. It would take a little while to find where the other had been dropped off.

For now, Cuphead lay half submerged in his shadow, head tucked low, worry warring with the fear a child had for their irate parent as his Domain continued to loom over him. Displeased at the sudden loss of its Scale.

‘ _You are lucky I adore you.’_ It groused. Cuphead only hunched further down, watching the water as Elder Kettle’s Domain filled the air around them, coaxing its partner Domain into playing nice. Cuphead refused to think his brother was in any actual danger, perhaps it was that tiny part of him that still thought Elder Kettle could solve anything. The part that saw his former caretaker and knew everything would be fixed and fine again before he could even start crying or bragging about how high he climbed this tree or that cupboard. But even if Elder Kettle hadn’t been around, his Domain was. And without realizing when, he’d begun seeing his Domain as an unbeatable beacon of awesome _everything_. If anyone could fix things, he was sure his Domain would find a way. So instead of truly freaking out, he only wrung his hands and watched the water, right alongside the ink demons.

***

Mugman had been having quite a nice day, he really had. It had started out peachy with Mama Bon Bon ushering them into her temple to showcase a recipe someone had come up with after being inspired by the boys. That person was later so drenched in good Karma the luck simply couldn’t keep up with all the good he received. A few trials they’d then been requested to attend. None had quite figured out how to pray to them yet, not how many had figured how to pray to the other gods, but it was a work in progress to see what would perk the ears of the Domains. The trials had been fun, the judge even more so, and though the last guy tried to flee and wound up with a nasty bruise and a quick dip for his stupidity, it was nice. And of course, the new game.

They were still relatively young, so it was no surprise word of a game would interest them immediately. It didn’t help that King Dice had far more influence on them than even King Dice thought he should. The game too had been fun! More so when Bendy and Jendy had been the artists. It was a war filled, on-the-edge-of-their-seat game of sabotage and confusing insults. Twins they might be, the two could be _vile_ to one another for the slightest reason, it was fascinating to Mugman. He didn’t think he could ever have it in him to truly get angry at Cuphead or aim to eviscerate him… however one did that to a porcelain sort of course.

Now though? As he splashed out of the water and landed on his shoulder, he understood. He understood, and he plotted. His Domain was silent, likely digging through its scripts and papyrus for truly horrendous revenge. Slowly, as the water fully drained from his soul, he sat up and took in the new location.

A jungle.

He was in a jungle.

For one who was naturally cold, the water immediately turned to condensation on his exposed porcelain, and he _glared_. There was only a really big leaf to glare at, but he did so none-the-less.

‘ _I cannot find the way back. I am ashamed and sorry.’_ His Domain informed him rather morosely. Retribution might as well have been a maze to his Domain. It was as much a part of the other world as Cuphead’s Domain was, but where the water was everywhere, the scales only ever sat in one place. Needless to say it wasn’t often that Mugman’s Domain pulled any but its child into Retribution, and only ever onto the scales. He’d known this would be the case though, and only shrugged with the arm that wasn’t being used to lift him to his feet. Making a circle around the circular pit of water that was once the well, he tried to figure out where he was beyond “jungle.”

It couldn’t have been Inkwell, not with how sweltering and gross it was. His shendyt was already sticking to his thighs, unable to wick away the porcelain equivalent of sweat.

“Drop him in a desert, fill his clothes with sand, and leave him to play ‘find the head’.” Mugman tossed out idly, temper as glacial as his cooling soul liquid. As if to answer, a buzzing slowly built, going from inaudible, to barely there, to definitely coming closer, and finally, rattlingly loud. Confused, but far from nervous, he tried to figure out where the noise originated from, the thick foliage devouring the noise just enough to distort it. The dark greens and vivid hues of natural floral accents amidst emeralds and peridots did wonders for camouflaging the origin.

At least until its gossamer wings caught the light peering through the canopy. Which is exactly when he and his Domain recognized what had to be the biggest flying cockroach type thing either of them had ever seen. The thing was bigger than he was tall.

Now, back when they were young, curious children. Or, devious children really, his brother had wanted to know what would happen if he dropped a bug they’d found into soul liquid. But it couldn’t be _his_ soul liquid _oh no._ No that would have been silly. It had to be his innocent, adorable, unassuming twin, that was the only correct way of seeing what happened. The minute the thing hit little five-year-old Mugman’s soul liquid, all he could feel was dirty slime cloying his soul. All he could hear was a clicking, sickening motion of exoskeleton covered limbs and mandibles and wings. Needless to say he’d screamed so loudly Elder Kettle had come sprinting into the room fearing his children were being murdered. He’d found Mugman shrieking and wailing and Cuphead giggling because Elder Kettle, in his haste, had slammed side first into the doorway.

The giggling stopped exactly five minutes after Mugman refused to even look at him. Then the whimpers and tiny apologies began to hiccup out, but Mugman was a scarred little five-year-old _with a grudge._ And a new fear of bugs.

A massive fear of them.

Somehow, he went from being next to the water to begin on the tallest branch, high into the canopy, wide-eyed and rattling and shaking and icy with fright. His voice came out in a high-pitched whine, almost a scream, akin to porcelain grinding together. The bug, the massive thing, twitched, buzzing until it could land by the water. Mugman sank against the smooth bark, clinging to the rail thin trunk, never more glad for his ability to dip into the shadows than in that moment.

Something skittered over his hand.

His Domain let out a low noise.

Six eyes as big as a billiard ball and darker than Devils’ distaste for just about everything. Eight legs, each easily twice as tall as him. It hadn’t skittered over his hand, no, that had been what some tiny, tiny rational part of his mind decided must have been a baby. The spider stared at him, and he, now whiter than rice in a snow storm, stared back.

***

It took a little time, but Elder Kettles Domain managed to coax enough from its other half to allow them a view to what the water could see. It took a little longer to find the thread linking the Domains of Retribution together, leading them to where the missing deity was. Now, that wasn’t enough to get it to give him back, oh no. The Well was a finicky feisty thing that refused to allow any back all easy like. That wasn’t how it worked. At least, it refused to work that way. They could see, but they couldn’t have. Especially since pulling things from alternate realities simply wasn’t something Elder Kettle or his brother tried, far too afraid they’d mess up a world and it would affect their own. It cared little how its partner domain pleaded, far more interested in showing off and doing what it always did. They knew what the water could see, but not where it was, only that the well had a visual on the one they wanted back. And what a visual it was.

“Oh wow.” Bendy’s jaw strained to not fall open in awe.

“Hot damn.” Jendy remarked just as breathlessly as his technical twin.

“Well that’s…” Elder Kettle drifted off, unable to truly voice his amazement.

The well could barely see Cuphead’s brother. Crying and being cuddled by the shadowy hound like Domain as it crooned and pat his back. They could vaguely make out weak declarations of how horrid a brother Cuphead was amidst the sobs. All while an entire forest burned in a raging inferno of gold around them. They could make out the remains of what had to be the biggest spider leg they’d ever seen, slowly turning to charcoal. Cuphead only buried his face in his hands, more sure than ever that his brother was going to _murder him._

Behind and above them, they heard a distressed cry.

Evidently, someone had already narked to the other gods, likely the bugs Rumor had in abundance guarding her dear nephews. Cagney, believing something had come afoul of the youngest gods had decided to spring up behind them. Only to see nature go up in a glorious blaze only a Domain in full defense mode could dredge up.

“Not the flowers!” He shrieked, his booming voice rattling Elder Kettle and ruining the image.

“Boy that poor fella sure has a fear of crawlies. What in the world made him so fearful of them?” Elder Kettle’s brother questioned, immediately trying to soothe a simmering, steaming god of wisdom. The god, his brother, slowly squint at Cuphead.

“But why the flowers?!” Cagney whined, uncaring of prankster children and mental scarring. Later, after settling, he’d pop out an idea to get Djimmi. Seeing as the god of wishes was a veritable powerhouse able to do things even Elder Kettles domain believed impossible. But for now, he bemoaned the loss of an entire ecosystem, lamenting how he could never tell his sister one of her nephews would burn a forest down at the sight of one measly spider.

***

Falling into the well was easy when the ground cracked under the heat and when a branch nearly crushing him forced his Domain to shove him back into the waters and away from the incinerated surroundings. It took hardly any time to come back out. He was thankful it was a barren desert devoid of all life. An oasis on its last legs. Perfect to compose himself and plot beyond murder. Beyond even petty revenge. Once calm and collected, he regarded the crystal waters of the well.

“I’d really like to be getting home please. I’ve got…oh… a _game_ , let’s go with that, to play with my _favorite_ sibling.” A peace offering, a test really. A curious young god he was, and they rarely spent time with the deity. Of all the Domains, his informed him that the wells was the worst. Stubborn beyond anything either had ever seen and merciless. Still, politeness never hurt. When it didn’t respond, he shrugged and focused on the tiny cat wreathed in shade perched beside him

“It’s a roulette then?” He questioned, and his Domain nodded, ever watchful gaze having seen much of what the other Domain offered and was. It doubted the usual games would work, much less its tactics.

‘ _We simply must keep trying until it bores of us, or Feather finds aid. It owes us no favors and will give us no leeway and no special treatment.’_

The young god nodded and pitched back into the water easily. It was more time to plot revenge anyway.

***

Djimmi’s upper lip was curled in disbelief, his eyebrows were dipped low, his muscled arms flexed to rid himself of budding tension. He stared at them as his sister float on her cloud above the water, watching the water ripple and magic strain to locate the thread once more.

“I’m highly confident in the knowledge that messing around with Domains is not my Domain’s favorite thing to do.” He outright stated with a flat tone. One that brokered no arguments, or at least tried.

“Aw come on Brother, why don’t you give it a go? Maybe it just needs a fresh voice coaxing it to get our nephew back!” Hilda remarked, peering between the water and the pale nephew of theirs still with them. “At the very least before Bon Bon catches wind. And if that doesn’t work… well I’ve heard pseudo-funerals help ease the despair of losing family!” She only realized she’d gone a bit too blunt when the ink demons shrieked “What?!” and when Cuphead let out a frightened noise that pierced right through her heart. Much like how Elder Kettles grand glare shot through her sense of safety.

“Sorry… just, thinking about the possible inevitable.” She laughed awkwardly, losing color in her flesh when the scent of home filled the air.

“We’re trying to get him back quickly, Hilda.” Elder Kettle genuinely hissed.

“What do you mean funeral?! He was burning down an entire forest last we saw him!” Cuphead cried, feeling light and not all there. Djimmi, sensing danger on the wind and fearing for his sisters continued non-dismembered state, raised his hands in a show of peace.

“Not to worry, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try, and if worse comes to worse, I’m sure Devil or King Dice might have something in mind. Please stop rattling, you know that summons Bon Bon.” He placated. And much as it left a sour taste in his mouth to mention them, he dearly didn’t want to imagine the fallout if Bon Bon caught wind she’d lost a boy, adopted or not. His own brand of magic, his own Domain, slowly rolled over them all, testing and tasting the atmosphere for the best means of going about its goal. An ancient entity just as mysterious and massive and calculated as Elder Kettles, cruel but kept docile at the behest of its child, it crept over and spilled into the water. 

A hum, one that began building in volume almost immediately and growing louder still at a rapid pace. Hilda frowned, her own Domain reaching for its partner, hoping to use its’ own reading ability to aid its partner in solving the issue.

The water fell entirely still.

Elder Kettle had only enough time to throw a barrier up over his former charge and the ink demons before the water _exploded._ A cacophonous shriek that sent Hilda off her cloud and into the ruins of a pillar nearby, cratering the marble surface. Djimmi went from red to olive green and his body distorted gruesomely, arms bulging unnaturally, face melting off, air turning searing hot around him as the magic recoil mashed through his figure. Elder Kettle rolled back and away, more focused on keeping the retaliatory strike from affecting Cuphead. The ink demons were frankly lucky to have been standing next to Cuphead. Cuphead’s own Domain arched over its child, sky flickering in dire threat to the void of Retribution and back to blue.

Once everything had settled, Djimmi was a mass of flesh and gold and bone and oozing golden ichor. Hilda was wheezing, trying to pull herself from the stone but failing when her limbs proved too numb to respond. Elder Kettle stared at the dirt, his Domain chewing out its partner viciously for putting their children at risk. The only response was a hissing, spiteful roil of ire.

The barrier did its job, keeping the horrified little deity safe as well as the ink demons who clung to one another out of blind panic. Upon realizing what they were doing they squint at one another and let go, a truce only for the sake of the dark situation befalling them currently. After a hearty silence, as everything slowly settled and Djimmi’s body began to crackle, repairing itself slowly as he wheezed, Jendy, unable to help himself spoke up.

“Whoever said trying can’t hurt was a filthy liar.”

“Really?” Bendy snapped.

“Well he sure ain’t lookin like a spring chicken that’s fer sure.” Jendy tossed back, his thumb jutting back towards the fallen form of the wish god.

“I hope he turns you rainbow colored.” Bendy hissed.

“He did do that though…”

“The good news is we’ve learned that doesn’t work!” Hilda got out, recovering faster thanks to her stardust body easily resetting what amounted to bones.

“Bad news. ‘Nother plan needed.” Djimmi squeaked. Cuphead immediately turned to his Domain, no longer scared at the scolding he’d yet to receive from it. No, he was fearful for his brother and talks of funerals certainly hadn’t helped. It peered past him at the water, lone golden slit eye almost boring a hole into the very Domain that held its partner captive.

“I can arrange fer a reconstruction. Sure a few followed through threats here r’ there’ll talk it from keeping Doll.” Jendy offered, the souls more mafia oriented showing their colors through his threat.

“You keep that foul ink from my sibling if you don’t want to end up bound to that studio in hell for the rest of eternity.” Elder Kettle didn’t really have to snarl or sneer to make the vow shine brighter than Hilda’s stars.

“I beat yer ass twice old rust pot, I’ll do it again!”

“Can someone tell Aunt Rumor to find Devil?” Cuphead interrupted, clinging to the sleeve of his Domain’s watery robes tightly.

***

Mugman eyed the forest around him. It was better than previous attempts, but still not where he needed to be. His temper, much like the temperature around him, was dropping significantly, ice spreading on the well. He’d not been in such a poor mood for quite a while and at the rate he was going he was going to combust.

Of course, just as he thought he’d need to find a means of soothing his fury, a beast emerged from behind one of the massive trunks. A lizard on two legs, frankly monstrous in size. It almost appeared as big as Grim, with bright red streaks on its leathery skin, wickedly sharp teeth, and wild eyes. It caught sight of him, and he stared back impassively.

It chose to take that as a threat, and its claws drove into the ground as it charged.

A little huff of breath escaped Mugman.

***

While Hilda went to find King Dice or Devil, Elder Kettle went back to the water, near boiling over as he dipped his legs back into the water and his Domain sharply dragged the water back into focus. Djimmi had vanished, Domain carting him away to repair him faster, but he’d be down for a good few days if the other times he’d been hit by god-like magic backlash was anything to go by.

The water focused to a much different scene. There was no inferno, but the sight was enough to send a bolt of relief through the strained porcelain deity clinging to the edge of the well and gazing down. The ink demons peered over as well, and Jendy almost appeared to swoon.

***

“Awww, who’s a cute giant lizard! You are!” Mugman cooed to the definitely traumatized beast. It huddled low to let the frail little hand scratch its snout, feeling like a feather drifting across more than anything else to it. It bore marks of the lesson bestowed on it by an entity far more powerful and decidedly malevolent than it. And when the little thing gestured for it to do the trick it’d… “learned”, it did so with gusto.

“Roll over! Good boy!” Mugman clapped, there was an edge to his voice despite the sweet overtone and peppy smile and lax posture. If it had the ability, it would have whimpered. “Oh you’re positively adorable when you aren’t being rude, aren‘t you!”

It shuddered, shadowy marks of a battle it had never had a chance to even try to win stinging worse than whatever semblance of crushed pride it had amidst the overpowering survival instinct. But doing menial things was nothing to it if it meant escaping with its life. The shadows dripping with vile amusement below it attested readily that its life was by no means spared just yet. But it would not get the mercy of freedom, not in the way it wanted.

“He’s so sweet now, but if I go in the well then I won’t see him again…” Mugman pondered. He pondered with an innocent, open, hopeful look that few could say no to. The look of a young little thing who desired something, knew their benefactor could give the thing over, but needed persuading. But through their admittedly short time with the Domains, of the two, Mugman’s was the one who was hardest to sway.

***

So it was with a mite bit of relief that the audience looked upon the scene with. Elder Kettle and his brother because the idea of taking something from such a place was daunting and could lead to Rumor getting ideas about resurrecting old projects. Cuphead because sure, the animal was neat, but they already had to handle Bendy and Jendy, something not remotely easy. Bendy and Jendy were more neutral, enjoying the mayhem more than anything else. Both marveling at how, despite not being there physically to soothe their worries as he was so good at doing, the downtrodden mood was long gone.

They all watched the shadow drenched hound skull peer down at the carefully hopeful expression, and like all but one, believed easily it would say no.

The one who was not so confident loomed over Cuphead. Watery shadows dripped from its crocodilian jaw as it hissed and lowly spoke out ‘ _do not. Do not even consider it---’_ Its partner looked one way, then the other, as if searching for the one over their other child, though it wasn’t there.

And the next they all knew, the giant lizard creature was gone, swallowed by the shadows. There was a beat of silence, and everyone turned to the shadowy entity gazing into the water with no visible change to its steadfast expression.

 _‘And you say I spoil them.’_ It muttered balefully, uncaring of the fearful gazes directed at it. The animal was likely going to have to be found by it now, and before it starved to death. Mercy knew if it brought back a decaying body its other child would cry and that would bring the ire of Scale onto it. But it had no reason or desire to tell the rest that, not when there was a commotion behind them growing louder.

Bon Bon was a force of motherly nature at the best of times. A warrior goddess who guarded homes as fiercely as she baked delicious meals in her beloved kitchen. A powerhouse who’d stomped an entire city out of existence in her younger years and who wielded a shotgun with unfailing accuracy and the stopping power of a cannon. She had few weaknesses, and less patience than many others when it came to incompetence or lies.

So when she descended on the little group, Cuphead wasted no time lunging over to Elder Kettle and knocking him and the picture from clarity. She pursed her cherry red lips, shotgun not present, suspicion going from the usual cause of mayhem in recent times—two ink demons—to her adopted child. He wasn’t using Elder Kettle as a shield, he was smarter than that. He simply nervously laughed, looked at her with his big red eyes all a-sparkle.

“Hi Mama Bon Bon!” He knew, oh he _knew_ she had been made aware of the issue. How much she knew, that’s what he didn’t know, and wanted to find out as safely as possible.

“Hilda snitched.” She told him plainly. “Hilda came running by asking if I’d seen King Dice. I hadn’t, but I did see a goddess with bruises and a _lot_ of broken teeth. So,” She paused, giving them an out. It wasn’t taken, not yet. He’d learned well then. “Care to fill me in on just why I don’t see my other cute boy?” Her gloved nails tapped on her upper arm rhythmically. And lo, did the entire group feel _fear._

Had Chalice been there, she’d have told Cuphead the last time they’d lost deities in that well, they’d not gotten them back. Over a thousand years ago for the time deities, and still nothing. The well rarely gave anything back. In fact, she could only recall one time, and it was the boy nervously watching her now for any tell that he’d never see his brother again or that he was in major trouble. But Bon Bon wasn’t Chalice, and she couldn’t be mad at him when they hadn’t told him about the dangers of the well, just to not go near it without caution.

“That’s quite the predicament, isn’t it?” She stated quite plainly. She watched the ink demons shuffle, out of their league and well aware of it. Watched Elder Kettle remain tense, hardly caring that he’d been knocked askew by the little cup.

“We’ve been able to find him twice now.” Elder Kettle threw out, and she knew then. He was worried. Worried she’d tell the youngest deity that it would likely be a good number of years before they could whittle down the stubborn domain enough for it to stop playing. Because ultimately that’s what she believed it would take. It was already nearing full nightfall, the sun was but a sliver on the horizon. And they’d only found him twice. But she couldn’t, not yet. Not until all avenues of forcing it to bend to their demands were worn thin. So she sat, skirts flaring out around her. She pat it, ushering the little cup to her side where he could sit on the thick fabric, safe from scraping his porcelain on the stones.

“A far cry better than before!” She didn’t have to try to sound enthusiastic. They never really had tried to find the other gods, believing they’d come out of their own accord. By the time they realized even the gods with their Domains couldn’t escape the well, it had been far too late and none of the gods really felt like wasting energy. They didn’t for mortals, why change for fellow gods? She idly called for her brother, knowing they’d need fire to chase the cooling air away. The ink demons slid closer to her, not touching her skirts, but close enough she could see worry in their eyes. She almost snorted. Instead, she let her own Domain begin testing the waters, not pushing the Domain lurking within, that would wait.

***

Dry grass amidst the stones, air that wasn’t oppressively hot or humid or miserable as before. Mugman sat up, icy blue eyes staring back at the well with growing displeasure. One cute lizard was not enough. It had been _hours_ since he’d fallen and he _still_ wasn’t back home. He wasn’t fond of taking violent dips and spilling intruding water from his mouth every time he took a dive. Not to mention that it had been too long since he’d been away. But the well wasn’t something he’d been able to truly observe. His Domain wasn’t confident about the problem either, no longer with any leverage against it as it’d had before. So he sat, letting wisps of fire dry his clothing and porcelain, steam rising in frail little clouds around him.

It was darker where he was, stars glittering in the deep blue blanket of the sky above him. A cold fog was drifting through the trees, not dense, not yet, but carrying notes of winter and the scent of ice. With nothing around, and a burning desire to sit and think, he curled up, letting a ring of fire chase away the cooling breeze. He’d never done well in cold, naturally cool soul liquid being horribly prone to freezing in arctic temperatures. Normally his brother would be around, and the other’s hotter temperature would be enough for him to stay close and keep the ice at bay, but currently Cuphead wasn’t around. The fire was fine, golden glow dim and hushed, as if it wanted to maintain a low profile in the unknown world.

The well didn’t give anything back. It kept what fell in it unless a deal had been made. One had not been made. The well had echoes of countless souls. The fire around him carried memories of innumerable people toppling in or being pushed, and never reemerging. A horrible thought, a horrible future. Thus far, it hadn’t done anything but put him in seemingly random places, like a child showing off its prized toys. Or perhaps it saw him as a toy, a doll to put in a dollhouse that changed constantly, with every dip and dive, a new location.

He knew he could move some distance from it, the tree had been quite tall, but that only meant the vertical space was possibly endless. How far out he could go, he wasn’t certain, but his Domain was just as crafty as he, and though it wasn’t chatty like its dear Feather, it had its methods, and it was easy to get the other Domain to gleefully give out what it needed to best ensure its childs safety and chances of returning.

‘ _Go as far as you please, as long as you want, but lose the well, and we will not find our way home. It has no time limit, not when none is needed.’_ It spoke its gained knowledge in whispers, ever watchful of the world around them. There was an odd feeling in the ground below, a sort of sentience not quite like a domain, that made it hesitant to bring any attention to itself or its child.

But then, neither it or its child had ever been in a place where the very land itself was what observed. A crushing curiosity, followed closely by odd recognition. The world around them, oppressively inquisitive but growing excited, like an old friend meeting them after a long time away. Mugman almost wheezed, body too compressed under the weight to even rattle. Not until it let up, directing its attention and his to the forest off to their left. By means of the Domain, it began to usher Mugman up to his feet just as a noise he’d never heard before shrieked from the encroaching darkness. Deep in the woods, sounds of a fight burst through the silence of before.

Voices he recognized let out indistinct noises, words he didn’t understand amidst the screeching and crashing and the world itself still ushering him up and forward, like it was trying to guide him where it wanted him to go. It didn’t need to do more though, not when through the trees a flash of a beast he’d never seen in his life flickered in his dim flames and sent a _very_ familiar body into the clearing with a heavy swipe. Metal shrieked, taking a blow porcelain couldn’t ever hope to withstand by itself. A body crashed down just a few feet away, skidding on impact with the cold stones to the side of the well.

Red.

Red he knew.

Red that belonged to family that wasn’t family. Red that was dazed and trying to focus back on the woods, but crossing over his fire first and pausing in growing shock. He stared back, confused for but a moment. Honestly he thought his brother had just been making tales of alternates up. Embellishing stories like he usually did. He looked at the downed, armored version of Cuphead until renewed fear bloomed and the other turned back to the dark, calling for his true brother. Trying to get the attention of the beast lurking in the shadows that had vanished back after rebuffing whatever attack the armored version had been attempting. His legs were cracked though, far too much for him to get up, soul liquid spilling to the stones, staining them.

A piercing whistle, one that silenced his panic, and drew his gaze back to the newcomer of their world. A golden thread drifted into the Knights view, shimmering and thin as a spiders web, flickering like the fire that was now only embers around the feet of the other. Inkwell had gone from enraged, to awaiting. The thing, a creature made of thick ice and bone. White as the snow, grey as decay and fast, _so fast._ It had a vaguely human face if a deers skull had been hidden by the skin rather than the human skull. Gaunt, emaciated and stinking of hunger, the deep-set eyes reemerged from the dark. Unable to find the first prey, it chose the one calling so boldly instead.

“I’ll be honest, and don’t tell my brother” The deity spoke conspiratorially to the downed Knight as the beast began to circle them, looking for the best mode of attack. The Knight, holding his upper half up on a cracked arm, rattled as he listened. “But I didn’t believe him when he said there were places like this in the well. Also, your armor is just about the snazziest thing I’ve ever seen.” Distracted in appearance, not even bothering to look around or follow the lightning fast glimpses of a hunter so perfected in the art and smart enough to not just lunge. It had been too fast, too difficult to read, too unpredictable in everything other than its burning desire to kill and devour. They’d found it eating a fallen traveler and before they’d been able to move it had been on them.

The Knight was grateful that his brother was close enough to dive behind a tree, but he’d been bracing rather than running and had been fighting as best he could against something frankly impossible for him to so much as follow. Inkwell had taken the entire tree down below the ground, sequestering the Lady from harm and to minimize distractions for the Knight. His sword was shattered, losing the war against the thick ice protecting the hollow ribcage. It was tall and thin and he’d just been able to defend, nothing more than that.

The beast gave out an unholy wail again, the sound echoing in the woods unnaturally. Sounding like a hundred creatures had surrounded them. But still, the one who resembled the Lady, who looked just as frail as the Lady, simply kept that secretive little smile on his face. And from the shadows, as the beast emerged, deciding on a target, the Knight figured out why.

Its cry was _answered._

A howling hiss so deep and rattling the ground shook. A skull dripping in shadows, like a jackal with a shorter snout. Void dark fur glittering with gold jewelry and embellishments spotting the wispy, flame-like fur. Golden eyes ringed with a green glow hovering in empty sockets that seemed to devour even the light the irises let off. And easily twice the beasts size. White ice to void fire, a challenger whose jaw crackled under the strain of its wide, too wide grin. It pressed a heavy paw, then hand, then paw, into the ground just beside the blue deity. And the hungry beast recalculated.

Ravenous, but wise, spotting openings and weakness. Easing forward to its left, it suddenly darted right, faster than any should have been able to see, but two pairs of golden eyes met its own hollow-wild gaze, and then it was crashing into a thick oak, body strong enough to withstand the blow, but leaving a heavily shattered tree in its wake. The void beast let out a hissing cackle, mocking it. The tiny little blue deity had made his way from the hovering beasts protective stance to kneel beside the downed Knight with a vial of what appeared to be honey held in offering. Threads glint in the clearing in an intricate weave.

When the white beast shot through the threads, they turned a sickly greyish black that was impossible to see in the thick night, even with smatterings of snow to catch the light of the stars and moon and reflect what they could into the clearing. Once again it was sent flying, never fast enough for the void beast to miss. It was akin to a cat playing with a mouse.

“I wish we’d met under nicer terms though.” The knight nodded, far too stunned by the new beast to bother thinking about the offered liquid. “It won’t hurt you, Aunt Rumors honey heals and repairs.” The downed knight took it, watching as the other finally took bright gold eyes off of him. He _almost_ felt bad for the thing. That was utter, glacial _fury_ in those eyes, matched in the gaze of the void beast.

It came again, this time for the blue one standing further from the void than the downed Knight, an easier target. Or, a calculated trap. Golden fire erupted in an inferno, a bright bloom of light and heat that threw it off track and it crashed to the ground before the small thing, writhing as the ice on its flesh began to drip and melt, intense heat devouring everything. Something bit into its leg and it howled, the pain of heat beginning to blossom on its frozen flesh amplifying the needle-like maw of teeth. A shadowy hound gave it a grin, then snapped its jaw down and broke through the reinforced bones, tearing the foot off. More teeth joined, more creatures began to feast on it and a voice broke through the mindless screams, deep down to a mind once sane before hunger drove it to cannibalism and its current state.

_‘You will make a fine meal for my Feather, a perfect gift. Thank you.’_

The Knight watched as it was devoured, reduced to nothing in the inferno. The moment it was gone entirely, the fire spread, reducing its heat to a pleasant wave of warmth. A soothing calm encroached the Knights frazzled mind, settling it easily, even when the ground released his Lady. The fire seemed to have an effect on the Knights brother as well, as instead of running to check on him, he walked. But that could just as easily been because Inkwell was perfectly content, happy even. Or perhaps it was because, true to word, the honey had repaired everything almost impossibly fast. It left the knight feeling energized and had the fire not been soothing him he’d be up and meeting his sibling halfway. Instead he just sat up and watched the fire dance sweetly across the ground, leaving no scorch marks or smoke.

“That was horrible. I’ve got dirt _everywhere._ ” The Lady grumbled, though with notable lack of heat. He slapped at his thick wool skirts, spilling dirt everywhere. Then the two versions of the blue cup met gazes, and held it. Words no Cuphead could ever hope to understand were silently conveyed in glints and shifts, and then it was over and the Lady was standing by Sir Cuphead with a truly pleasant smile on his face.

“Thank you for helping, I was getting worried.” The Lady said, hands reaching to help his brother up.

“Oh it was no problem at all! Really that rude fellow had it coming. Heavy as could be I tell you.” The deity replied just as lightly and merrily. The void beast had already vanished, and the fire had less to fight back in regards to shadows. The world returning to natural darkness.

“Still, what a terrible welcoming to Inkwell, usually it’s far nicer than unfriendly beasts.”

“Goodness, it’s not even the worst I’ve met. Why, when I first arrived to my Inkwell it was easily a hundred times worse than one rabid annoyance. Did my brother tell you?” And with that, in a warm fire, the trio began to chat like old friends. The two children of Inkwell finding wonderful comfort in the flames, soaking it in when panic would have gripped them by now in any other situation. Inkwell itself kept up the happy humming only the children of Inkwell could hear, babbling about how wonderful its newest visitor was. The child of a Domain taking comfort in having familiar faces and friendly words to speak.

***

Bendy and Jendy blinked, looked between the rather comfy scene fading now that Elder Kettle was beginning to tire from expending so much and maintaining the battle and pressure on the other Domain, and the shadow under Cuphead. They, and everyone else could _swear_ the hiss that came from it was adoring.

“Well damn… We’re gonna have to redo the ‘scariest’ chart again!” Jendy slumped so his face smacked into the skirt he’d unconsciously shifted onto. Bon Bon had found it far too funny to stop him or the other Ink demon to really care and even then, she only sighed fondly.

“I’m so glad we don’t have to fear for him. If all that will try to harm my dear child are mindless hunters then we’ve nothing to fear! Elder Kettle, I do believe you should take some time to rest.” Bon Bons own Domain was raring to keep the pressure up, but Elder Kettle needed to be in the best possible state at all times. His domain had been forced to protect the clearing earlier on top of reaching through countless worlds to find a single thread. A feat in and of itself, not even beginning to consider using that thread to pull and guide the lost deity back to them without having to contend with a Domain that refused to cooperate. 

“Boy, Ma sounded _angry._ ” Cuphead mused, not too worried when the image fully faded and voices vanished.

“A nasty cannibal got in its head to assault its child, of course his Domain was upset.” Bon Bon added.

“Yeah but I’ve never seen it do that before.”

“It doesn’t have you there, it’s got little choice but to step up and protect what you and your Domain cannot right now.” Elder Kettle said as he stepped away from the well. “We will return in the morning, I’ve got to rethink my strategy and my Domain is frazzled with arguing. Come along, we’ll stay in my house.”

“What?! That’s too far! What if it decides to bring him back while we’re gone?” Cuphead argued, hastily getting to his feet. Elder Kettle let out a creaking noise of patience slipping into the horizon.

“That’s fine dear, My home is closer and just as capable of hosting guests. Besides, someone will need to be around when the other gods begin to show up. Grim and Hilda have been spreading the word, I’m certain they’ll be here soon.” Bon Bon interjected and ushered the now nervous deity and demons from the well. Her Domain left a rune carved into the ground, a sigil that spread a circle out and around the entire clearing that, when tripped, would alert her of someone intruding on the area. She’d be able to intercept them or know if something came from the well. Saying as much, she asked the demons what they’d want to eat, using their enthusiasm to her favor, and they seemed to know it. Her brothers inky shadow soared above, drifting embers falling to light their way as they went down the path back to her home where they would all stay.

Elder Kettle would return to his own home to search for books and answers, possible potions he could brew up to go about bringing his former charge back via pinpoint spells or brews. Slowly through the night, deities returned, answering the call for aid, converging on Isle Three to start plotting. They’d lost two deities and countless mortals to the thing before, but this was one it wasn’t allowed to keep, and they were willing to fight dirty if need be. If not for their youngest god, then for but one fact.

Porcelain siblings did not do well when taken from one another.

They broke down and became shells of their former selves. Porcelain, metal, and other long-lasting mortals whose lives could span thousands of years handled losing the one constant in their lives worse than ephemeral mortals could hope to match. A mental decay from having the one that’d been at their side for centuries was far too much for any to withstand. Unstable and bereft of all that they’d been before, it was a horrifying thing to see. To their knowledge, not a single pair had ever withstood the taxing trial and no one wanted to know how much worse it could get if it was a god who fell into that level of despair.

The remaining Domain circled its empty Retribution, the scales once present gone, behind a wall it couldn’t penetrate. It couldn’t even hear echoes of answering calls to its rumbling hisses and roars, but it hadn’t expected any less. Instead it continued to circle, eventually taking its child into Retribution and letting the tiny figure slumber on its thickly furred chest as it swam on its back in the endless ocean.

***

Inkwell was more than happy to give a shelter to the group to rest. It was clear the new child was exhausted, especially from defending its children on top of whatever other ordeal he’d been through. So a cave ripping up from the ground behind the drawn line was easy to do. Easier still for the entrance to sink until nothing but the tiniest bug could get in, ensuring protection for its dear children. Fire guided them, maintaining the comforting heat until they found a circular offshoot not fifty meters from the well. The shadowy hound reemerged, sleek and dainty now. Its fur fluffed in invitation, an offering to give them something comfortable to rest on instead of cold rock. Not a single reassurance was needed to get the trio to lay down. The Knight was in the middle, an old habit of keeping unfamiliar people from his sibling rearing its head, not that either version of his brother minded. Slowly the fire began to dim, flaring only to heat up some of the rocks and let steady heat trickle into the coldness. Its long, almost feline like tail with thick, cloud-soft fur rested over them like a blanket and it took very little for the conversation to drift off.

The Domain listened to the chatter of the world around it, intrigued at all the interesting things it shared almost mindlessly. The jumping topics were easy to follow, and so it stayed like that for the night, purring softly to keep the tiny ones on it content and in as soothing and restful a sleep as it could.

***

The next morning brought the invigorating light of the morning sun through the windows, and directly onto the face of the slumbering ink demons. Which was followed by a voice usually found in the theaters following the goddess of the stage and theater.

“Rise and shine my silly gremlins! We got work to do!”

Bendy shot up, excited as ever to hear his dear creators voice. Jendy hissed, souls currently sitting in him not remotely morning people in life.

“Cuphead! Dear it’s time to get up, the others have all arrived, give or take a few—we still can’t find King Dice and no one wants to brave Hell right now—and Elder Kettle needs you for locating your brother.” A rattling crash, frantic footsteps and boisterous cry of,

“I’m awake!”

Jendy was dragged out of bed by Bendy, the two riling up at each other for only the briefest seconds before their attention was back to staying as far from starting a sibling fight as they could. Especially not in the presence of Henry.

True to her word, the others were there. On Isle Three no less. Cala Maria was in the central water ring, her blue blob of a brother perched on her shoulder. The water goddess and river god were conversing with Elder Kettle. Down beside the wisdom god were the gods of innovation and creativity, Kahl and Werner had a mess of blueprints and lined papers, covered thickly in hastily written and tossed battle strategies as they tried to figure how to do something that left even their Domain’s stumped. Sally and Beppi argued, the theatric gods confident a show was needed to coax the stubborn domain, but what kind and how intense was up for debate. Wally, god of winds, squint towards Isle two, his Domain at a loss of how exactly it could assist but willing all the same. His brother, Brineybeard, laughed boisterously as he and Rumor spoke of threats that might work on the well. Cagney and the root brothers spoke more to Inkwell than anything else, trying to use the thing that had been around the well constantly to figure out what usually went on when something went into the well.

It was disheartening to hear how nothing had ever come out aside from Cuphead, but they weren’t willing to throw in the towel. It was Ollie who focused most on finding the still missing luck god. None of them bothered trying to find Devil, either sure he wouldn’t help in the least or sure if they found King Dice, they’d find Devil not far behind. Hilda and her still recovering brother chat with Grim and the victory brothers about ways to brute force the well without unleashing magic kickback. Once Cuphead, Bon Bon, and the rest had arrived, the broken conversations died in place of focusing on Cuphead.

“This is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself and your brother into.” Sally sounded scolding, using her aunt status to its fullest. Cuphead’s head dipped lower to his shoulders, bashful and sorry. “Gone and given the pit of corpse water one of my favorite actors! You’re just lucky you’re cute or I’d be writing you in for the most boring part of my next play.”

“The next lessons in acrobatics are going to be…enlightening.” Beppi said all bright and chipper and Cuphead’s bright candy red faded to a pale red tint. Bendy pat his shoulder in comfort, dance lessons were _still_ a horror he’d never experienced before in his life, so to him, he and Cuphead were a pair of soldiers facing incoming hell.

“Cut the scolding, we’ve got plans to make and experiments to try.” Cala’s loud voice interrupted any other talk, overpowering it and bringing attention back to the problem at hand. “That sorry puddle of water has something that doesn’t belong to it and by all of us are we going to get it back as fast as possible.”

“It may take a few years, perhaps a century, but certainly the long game is first and foremost on the table.” Chalice agreed. Cuphead paled further at the estimated timeframe, rattling now, and clutching Bon Bon’s skirts tightly.

“That backwater brewery better not steal my Doll away that long; I’ll go fer ‘salt the earth’ measures if this goes past a week.” Jendy hissed, inky body roiling. Henry pat his head, letting his hand stay between the horns more in threat than comfort.

“We can’t simply go in aggressively, do remember it has Mugman and any harm that comes to my brother might reflect on him in retaliation.” Elder Kettle pulled no punches in reminding them of the biggest caveat to most of the plans. Any Domain would protect its child, and the Well’s child was no different.

Instantly Kahl and Werner stopped what they’d been writing and slowly, nonchalantly, began nudging a pile of papers into the water with their feet.

Brineybeard, who’d been about to suggest cannons, closed his mouth.

“We know the Domain is water oriented,” Cala Maria spoke. “Which means my Domain actually has some weight it can throw around.”

“Can probably boost the scrying so it takes less energy and Kettle can focus more on getting him back instead of just finding him.” Goopy said, squinting at the papers swiftly dissolving in the drink. Cala Maria nodded excitedly.

“Inkwell ain’t got anything, but Hell might know a trick or two. Fairly certain it’s got a few weird pools in there. But I sure ain’t asking.” Cagney mused, more focused on the problem of coaxing the well’s empathy in regards to mayhem it often caused. The thing was the most apathetic Domain Cagney could think of, even Chalice’s was more willing to allow the dead a brief chance to say goodbye to their loved ones or return for beyond-the-grave revenge.

It was Phantom Express who let out steam as its brakes were released and it started on tracks made of hellfire and holy embers towards Hell. Evidently it was willing to interact, which was good considering there were about four deities that Hell wouldn’t actively just set on fire and chase out. And it happened to be one of them

“See if you can spot the other two as well!” Bon Bon called after him. An affirmative whistle was given and he was gone from the clearing. “Feasibly, with a bit of _luck_ it might not have the chance to shuffle him elsewhere. But King Dice isn’t here, so he can’t tell us if that’s a possibility, and I’m confident we don’t want a repeat of Djimmi.”

And slowly, they began to formulate tests and plans and plots to perform, all while the rune by the well remained undisturbed.

***

“It was wonderful meeting you both, but I do think I should get going.” The deity sounded apologetic, but he stood by the well none-the-less.

“I hope the well gains some manners, it sounds terrible to go through a world roulette.” Lady Mugs frowned to the well.

“I’d offer to stab it but I don’t think it’s like the blob thing we had to take down a few weeks ago.” The Knight shrugged. The deity laughed merrily and shook his head.

“No, I’m sure they’re trying to figure out how to fix this and I hope they do it fast. I have plan of revenge that are only getting more elaborate.” Both the Lady and Deity had a smile on their face that made the Knight feel instantly bad for his counterpart. Inkwell crooned, not wanting to lose a cute new visitor so soon, but it wasn’t sure it wanted to find out if a look-a-like and almost soul match to its Lady would change how effective the Lady was. In the interest of not making things difficult, it let the newcomer pitch back into the water. And instead it began to search for the next thing in need of the Lady or Knight.

“Next time I see that other me,” The Knight spoke as they walked away, “I’m teasing him for his own brother agreeing that my armor is snazzier.” The Lady nodded sagely.

“Because it is.”

“And why did he ask why you were wearing a dress when his wears a skirt?”

***

Three more worlds gone, agitation brewing low and slow, Mugman flopped back into the water almost bored. A tundra wasn’t what he was looking for.

***

It was so much harder to find him. The Domain had time to simmer and regain itself, and the little deity had fun in that one world! Which, to it, meant it was doing well. It was only growing more displeased however, when none outside seemed to see that. It didn’t understand just what was so different from all the other times, but it was starting to get an idea. One it frankly loathed, and the flames of ire crackled to life within it. Its child, far too used to such things, did nothing to soothe or coax his Domain. He knew better.

After two hours of being unsuccessful, Jendy, who’d been pacing while Henry watched Bendy show off a little of what he’d learned, grumbled loud enough for it to hear.

“I’m startin’ t’ think it’s pullin a fast one and pretending it don’t know where Doll is.”

“Of course it knows, we aren’t letting it lose attention on him.” Elder Kettle answered.

“Yeah, well y’ know what works great when bozo’s ain’t playin smart? Bracin’ em until they wize up t’ the eight ball in front of ‘em. Bet it wouldn’ be so smug if a bit of… _persuasion_ was added. ‘Sides, if what got it t’ give up the dewdropper life an’ spit that one out was gettin’ boneyard down there clean again, why don’t we just have a repeat performance?” His gloves darkened, soaking through with ink, not leaving a print, but the threat was clear. Though, for one of Jendy’s persuasion, it was more a promise, and an idea he’d absolutely go for unless someone stated otherwise. No one spoke, no one had to because the well suddenly snapped the wider pool further enhanced by Cala Maria’s presence by the ruins on the edge of the little branch off of Isle Two into full clarity. Giving everyone present a full view of an ink drenched world, a desolate grey sky, and crushing silence broken only by shallow cries of misery those in the ink knew all too well.

***

Mugman stared out at the ruins around him.

“This _better_ not be my world or Jendy is in _so much trouble._ ” He hissed, but his shadow was focused more on the pressure in the air than anything else. There was a strange, listless and hopeless quality around them. Far in the distance, the barrier flickered weakly, as if on its last legs. Only the sounds of suffering and misery, quiet and burbled and muffled swept through the silence. Everything was grey or black, stained thickly with ink he’d burned away quite some time ago. To see it back, and to see things worse than before, irked him _severely._

He got to his feet, tapping one rapidly in agitation. The well behind him seemed to be the one clean portion of the isle, and only because it too had a weakening barrier around it. Taking a step out and preparing to call for his brother or either of the ink demons, his foot hit a puddle of ink and it instantly tried to wrap around his ankle and suck him down. Swift, vicious fire answered it, just as effective as ever, and his anger morphed into a dangerous, saccharine, doe-eyed vow of retribution.

“Jendy!” He called out, scanning the broken pillars and wasteland of an amusement park. His voice carried only a short distance in the cloying, oppressive air.

“Cuphead?” He tried next when there was no response. His Domain tried as well, searching for even a duplicate of its Feather, and instead it found emptiness. Emptiness and listless mindlessness that was _fast_ approaching. It hissed in warning, and when the thing bearing a broken dancing demon face, contorted and completely black aside from a stamped on smile marred by ink dripping over teeth rose from the ink, Mugman was already turning.

“There you a—” Mugman stopped, his head slowly tilting to one side, straw sliding with the motion. His eyes, a vivid gold, _observed._ It was bulky, its rail thin neck over a heavy body covered horribly in thick ink. Almost like it was imitating a muscly body but simply didn’t understand where the muscles went. So it was lumpy, asymmetrical, and all around painful looking. Its’ abdomen was thin, but its legs picked up the bulk again. Not as much as the torso, but enough to not appear silly or outright blatantly deformed. It parroted his motion, neck giving out awful cracking noises.

“Oh _no._ That’s the worst appearance yet! Gracious if Henry saw this I’m certain he’d be displeased.” In another world, he was. He was actively being held back with his mouth covered as he rained insults and vowed to return to the studio in their world in Hell just to renew the beatdown on Joey. But at the mention of Henry, the terrible rendition of Bendy frowned, then smiled again. Pained cries, ones mournful for family mockingly held before them but unreachable all the same as they suffered in the ink, popped into the air. Golden eyes blinked but once in bubbly confusion, the dangerous edge growing further. The thing was very clearly saying Henry wasn’t a problem to it anymore.

There was a shift then, a tiny one that none but the one who knew Mugman best could see, one that had him second-hand afraid.

“That’s not very nice of you… Jendy?” He asked, and when it gave no response, the pieces clicked. “No, it’s Bendy, right?” A twitch to the smile, it found his question funny. Which was perfect because he did too. “Well that’s a relief! It’s _wonderful_ to know you aren’t the two I know.” The way he said wonderful should have sent a warning so severe through the other he bailed or tried to grovel. But the other didn’t, instead, he decided it was time to add yet another to his collection. He moved fast, faster than before, knowing speed was needed for this one. The impact to the thin midsection released a hearty crack, and a noise of surprise. A wash of sadistic glee slipped down the demons spine, and he pressed on, keeping the assault up until the other would be too broken to even squirm.

***

“D… Did that bitch just hit my Doll?!”

A hand descended on the two demons’ shoulders, pinching a place that in a human would have and them squirming and their shoulders hiking up to their non-existent necks. Echoes of habit went into effect and even with no true nervous system they did exactly what the move made the living do, both stomping their feet in panic. Henry leaned closer, maintaining his iron grip.

“You see that, boys? Don’t _ever_ try that shit, got it?” Henry spoke plain, spoke clear and calm but the grip. Oh the grip spoke _volumes._ They both hastily nodded, whining in fury that the jackass in the alternate reality was making them get beat as well. Henry nodded, released his grip, and they shifted away from him moodily.

***

Mugman never seemed to be fast enough, being grabbed and tossed around and body slammed and sent flying. And yet, the one who should have been just about frothing at the mouth was only silently watching. Something alternate ink demons weren’t. He gave off little noises, hairthin cracks spiraling out from where he’d been hit. It was exhilarating to the demon, why, he’d missed the rush of ink that battle brought, however onesided it appeared to be.

***

“Set him on fire, Doll!”

“Crush him to charcoal, set him on fire and _make smores_.”

The gods closest to the demons summarily took a hearty step away.

Cuphead remained silent, his Domain began to _laugh._

***

Just as it was reaching for the downed deity, his prone form fell into shadows, reappearing on top of the ruins, cracks already vanishing in streaks of gold. One with acrobatics and threads everywhere reading the moves could roll with punches and expand his abdomen when grabbed to shrink it so the grip wasn’t as tight as before. It was easy for Mugman, what with how good he’d gotten at dodging, and with all the lessons Rumor and Bon Bon and Beppi gave him. He sat prim on the stone, flames searing away the ink beneath him as he sighed and stared down at the not so smiley demon below with half-lidded, glacial eyes.

“I’ve decided, you aren’t endearing _at all._ ” It frowned, trying to see what angle he was going to come from, but that look, so unnaturally disdainful and _apathetic_ , it didn’t like it. So, it reached for the ace under its sleeve. An object emerged from the ink, a red and white striped straw, torn with chunks missing. Other familiar voices filled the air.

Mugman though, he rested back on his palms head tilting towards an arched shoulder, smile spreading further up his face. His fingers began tapping rhythmically as the ink closest to him was burned away in a methodical circle. Half-moons of liquid gold flecked with green under thick lashes, the corner of his mouth quirked up just a hair further, and the demon _lunged._ Mocked and teased and not remotely putting up with it. There was a flash of gold, and it slammed _hard_ into a massive disk that flared into the world just before the deity.

A piece of the scales of Retribution, now a shield, one that didn’t as much as dent upon impact though the body smushed painfully against it. The world dimmed, growing darker despite the flames. The demon rocked back, dazed and confused and angry as the shield vanished, showing an empty pillar. Then it had a slight weight on its shoulders, and it twisted its head to find Mugman draped across its open shoulders.

“Mine are far more adorable. And I think I hear him in there!” He vanished before the shoulders could shift or the ink could retaliate. The ground shifted, and under its feet the same disk appeared. Fire etched into the air, burning away the illusion to reveal the entirety of the scales, gleaming gold and mahogany, intricate hieroglyphs spiraling up the central pillar. Water filled beneath it, and lapped at its ankles. It stumbled back as ground turned liquid. On the other stood the deity, hands behind his back, mysterious smile in full effect, rocking back and forth on his heels, a picture of innocence.

“I don’t have a feather, but…” The scale shifted, groaning as the arms shifted, dipping further into water that was nowhere else but in the disk. A hum, ink filling the water, desperately trying to counter the burning that crept up the ink demon’s legs from contact with the water alone. It began to sink further still until with a flicker of golden fire, the tiny deity was before it, holding its cheeks in small palms almost lovingly.

“ _I know where I can find one.”_ _Dark._ Vile and dark and _piercing_ was his tone. Gold bore into the demon’s hidden eyes, before palms pressed in and then the ink got ahold of an ankle. But there wasn’t a turn of fright, no, the deity _grinned_ , unnaturally wide and _demented._ _Triumphant._ He fell into the ink, and all went silent, but the scales remained. It all fell deathly still, even the ink felt frozen. The screams abruptly cut off, stifling the world entirely into unnatural, awaiting silence.

A line of light slid up its body, up its chest, and it let out a hacking wheeze. Fire spilled from its mouth, ink ablaze in gold disappearing into nothing as it dripped and melted from his body. Growing hotter and hotter until the entire body was burning in fire driven by righteous fury no one believed the always docile deity even had the ability to reach. But it went further than that. Slowly, the scale began to rise as deep within, souls _burned_ , turned to nothingness in the hellish inferno of golden _wrath_ incinerating everything. There was no ink to enforce a punishment as there’d been before on Mugman. No handprint on his face or ink in his soul liquid causing liquid agony any time even a spark bloomed. Absolutely nothing to contain the powerhouse of cleansing fire.

And nothing to protect the ink from something it belatedly realized it _never should have devoured._

Outside, ink flash-burned in random places, igniting seemingly for no reason as the heat grew to the point where even the surface of the well began to steam. The scales only continued to rise slowly, inch by inch, then faster, faster still as the deity returned back outside, a broken grey form in one hand who’d once been red and white and whole. In the water at his side was his alternate. And the ink spat out more still, forced by fire that choked it, vowed to burn it to non-existence for its insolence. The demon flailed and writhed under the pain, something it hadn’t experienced _ever._

The deity remained silent, a malicious grin that warped under the heat around him as his flames tore across the isles.

***

Jendy dry heaved, looking away in pure horror. Bendy had fainted right around the time the alternate had began hacking up fire. Softly, Cagney found his voice.

“Holy shit.”

Rumor wiped a tear from her cheek, sniffling daintily.

“They grow up so _fast._ ”

Cupheads Domain just about fluffed with pride, but Cuphead frantically tried to recall _anything_ that would spare him the same fate. He’d pushed his brother into this mess. If _that_ was the level of anger he’d reached—sure, it had been because the other had waved what amounted to Cuphead’s corpse in his face but _still—_ Cuphead would need to be endearing as much as possible right out the gate once they got him back. He tried to think if Mugman had thought his smile was endearing or annoying when angry but by the _gods could he not remember at the moment and he was going to die._

***

The blaze only ended when one weak-as-a-newborn ink demon remained. Unlike their world, apparently Jendy and Bendy were one in the same here. Mugman found that interesting. About as interesting as the blob of a _thing_ weakly scrabbling for the only remaining ink puddle. He couldn’t kill it, not without truly destroying Bendy, and so, with the hard reset he’d just delivered, he decided that ultimately it was best to watch and see. Fire continued to devour all that coated the isles, a true inferno of astounding proportions that he was confident he’d regret. Especially since the scales had been pulled free of Retribution.

So much power going into enforcing a ‘do not do this ever again’ policy onto the twitching mess of ink on the other disk. He didn’t care. _No one waved his brother’s suffering in his face._ Alternate or no, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t recall ever expending so much power though. Even in his own world when cleaning up Inkwell, it hadn’t been so intense. He felt a smidge woozy, which meant he needed to get over to the well after being sure the message was clear and someone was able enough to move. The scales slipped back into the ground, diving into Retribution awaiting use once more. Honey was procured and poured into both alternate cup brothers heads so their souls had a boost to repairing whatever had been done. He walked up to the whimpering figure and paused by Bendy’s head.

There was no more neck, he was returned to his on-model appearance. Somewhere in the distance, there was a Henry roar of fury. Answered with Cagney’s brand of cursing that left even Mugman’s Domain stunned. The simpering ink demon peered up at him, smoke spilling from his cracked teeth. Mugman crossed his arms, assuming a stance Bon Bon had used on them to ensure maximum scold effect.

“Not going to do that again, are you?” It wasn’t a question. Bendy shook his head weakly, heaving out heat and pain as the souls that remained, none but those too steeped in good karma to burn away, reoriented themselves. The _thing_ cowered, cowed and left a scarred mess of terror. He was summarily ignored after that until most of the ink had been cleared away. Mugman knelt down, balancing on the balls of his feet.

“If ever I come back and I find you’ve gone and done this again, _I’ll leave nothing but a_ _dream left. Got it?”_ The downed demon nodded hastily, pale as black ink could be.

A shriek of wrath from Cala Maria sent the water of the well rippling. It made the image on the other side break apart as well simply from the force of her and her Domain’s fury, and no one saw Mugman stand smoothly, and tip into the well in utter exhaustion. Right after he hit the water, consciousness began to return to the downed porcelain deities a few meters away from the seared demon, but he was far too singed to do anything, even as the other gods began to search for the two youngest gods.

It was an odd world devoid of life that the young deity found himself in, and the Domain wasted no time in using its powerful claws to burrow into the soft white ground. Once a little cave had been made, it dragged its child in and coiled tightly around his tiny frame as he slept.


	2. Welly well well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i had to break this beast up. Its the only reason there are two chapters

“You and your damn vocals!” Bon Bon hissed, worry for her child rearing its ugly head. Cala Maria chuckled, waving off the irate Hearth goddess.

Henry fanned Bendy’s face, trying to coax him back to consciousness. Cuphead, wanting to use his life to its fullest before they got his sibling back and he was wiped from existence on the spot by a potentially apoplectic brother, turned to Jendy.

“Aren’t you glad he got there before you did more than break my arm and leg?”

Jendy scowled at him, still pale grey and sick from the image now etched into his mind. The souls within him collectively shuddered, fearing more than ever before. He could have sworn he saw his life flash before his eyes during the burning, and he wasn’t even the one on fire! Now he _really_ understood just how nice his Doll had been even when he himself had gone into the furnace. His burn was _nothing_ like that, miserable yes, but devastating? Not even close.

“Downside is he’s got to be weak now.” Elder Kettle spoke once Bendy was slapped back awake. Cagney nodded.

“That was a _lot_ of firepower. I don’t think I’ve ever seen those things out before either.”

“Dear will be so vulnerable now! Goodness but why would his Domain have gone that far?” Rumor gasped in realization. Elder Kettle immediately went back to scouring for the lost deity, it was Bon Bon who answered.

“If there’s _one_ thing that makes that boy lose his common sense it’s this rascal.” She bat at Cuphead’s straw once, he jerked, red blooming over his cheeks. “It’s a weakness no amount of effort could get rid of. Let’s just hope that’s the _only_ time he loses his sense.”

Elder Kettle nodded as did a few of the other gods, and the deity of wisdom and magic renewed his focus on finding the young deity to soothe their worries.

***

It took an unknown amount of time for Mugman to wake up refreshed. He hadn’t bothered exploring the world beyond noting how the stars were seemingly much closer than before and gravity was awful weak. In a mildly foul mood, one growing ever stronger the longer he was away from his brother, he just about glared and crossed his arms as he pitched into the water time and time again upon coming upon empty worlds or places full of odd life he didn’t even remotely want to go near.

Angry as he was, when he came to a world that was Inkwell his ire became stagnant. That was isles, all bright and sunny and pleasant with murmurs of life off in the distance, his glare lessened. He sat with his legs tucked under him, looking around as the water drained from him. Whistling snores quite familiar to him made him peer over his shoulder to a snoozing Elder Kettle off in the distance, on a bench closer to the path that led up to the well. The ruins were fresher, far less stained with moss and time. He could only see the Ferris Wheel in the distance, and Isle Three’s silhouette distinctly lacked any high-rises.

A tiny weight bopped onto his hip, and he looked down curiously. Being so close to the water, he’d assumed it to be a frog. Only to meet eyes with big, _big_ red eyes on a tiny little face that just about _sparkled_ once he gave his attention to the little thing. Donning a cherry red onesie with little patches on worn down knees—from all the crawling probably—his little alternate infant brother looked at him like he’d found the snazziest thing in the world. Slowly, Mugman’s eyes filled with sparkles, breath filled his chest as he slowly sucked in air. It came out in a steady, sustained high-pitched noise of pure adoration.

He watched the baby’s chubby little fingers dig into his outfit to haul the infant up onto his lap. Behind him, his Domain watched, until it too felt a nudge to its haunch and it turned to look. Big blue eyes so pure and sweet and curious. One ear flicked down, tracked by the blue as could be eyes. It flicked back up, and the other flicked down and back up quickly. The teeny little baby Mugman squealed with glee.

***

Bon Bon wheezed, clutching her chest like it was the only thing keeping her heart in place. Rumor just about strangled Kahl, screaming for someone to get a camera or film or _something just get a device for pictures!_ Jendy too was down with Bon Bon, just about sobbing as tiny baby babbles filled the air. Cuphead’s Domain watched the little red form be tossed into the air gently, a pleased rumble in its chest. Cala Maria leaned closer so she could better be heard by the god of wisdom.

“Just wait for Bon Bon to realize she could have seen more of this if you’d just taken more photos of them when they were younger. You know, instead of the single photo album you have half filled with sporadic pictures.”

The _only_ reason Bon Bon didn’t _glare fire_ at Elder Kettle was because the little baby Cuphead had grabbed ahold of the ribbon tied to Mugman’s handle and was gleefully tugging on it to watch Mugman’s head tilt back or to the side. Werner stumbled back with a camera, muttering about crazy aunts. Rumor dropped Kahl, vowed pain to Elder Kettle for the transgressions of the past, and proceeded to work the camera to the best of her ability.

***

“This is terrible.” Mugman spoke to the tiny little face before him. “I can’t leave now.”

His Domain purred, dipping both ears back and popping them back up. Letting the tiny fists burrow into its shadowy fur and climb its back to slide down with a merry squeal.

“Aren’t you the coolest future big brother! Look at you!” He cooed to the alternate Cuphead. The baby wiggled in his onesie and babbled. Not understanding the words but soaking up the attention from a vaguely familiar face. Once put back on the cushioned lap, the baby wiggled his tiny feet and twisted until he could roll down the thighs and onto the ground, cushioned by oddly soft shadows. He sprang back up on his feet, wobbly and unbalanced but standing. He was summarily showered with praise and went back to the bigger porcelain lap to perform the stunt again.

It took honest effort for Mugman to not burst into tears of adoration, but he managed.

 _‘We cannot stay’_ His Domain didn’t sound even sort of stern. ‘ _Feather must miss us.’_

“What? We can’t leave them! Look how cute! It’s almost a sin to just up and leave them!” Mugman protested, holding his infant self up so big blue eyes could peer right into the golden eyes of the Domain. The baby laid a tiny hand on the snout now close to it, patting it a few times gleefully. Both of the Domain’s ears went down, and an internal battle of epic proportions began.

***

The happy rumbling was instantly cut off and gold slit eyes narrowed suddenly.

 _‘Do not, do not dare to, Scale I vow that if you do what you are thinking of I will…’_ The Domain drifted off, unable to come up with a suitable threat.

“It’s too cute. I’m gonna _die._ Remember me as the version of Bendy that wasn’t a weenie.” Jendy wheezed. Bendy weakly punched his arm, ink melting in a puddle around the both of them as they lost any ability to maintain a stable form.

***

“I’m going to teach them how to walk and then how to climb and run and they will wreak adorable havoc on the world.” Mugman mused as his baby brother hung from his outstretched arm like a sloth, letting go to fall into his lap and then to climb back up and do it again. The baby was soaking up the blatant adoration like a sponge, eyes alight with joy as much as his brothers were. The other who found himself a passenger on the Domain’s shoulders as the hound trot around in a circle, all too content to act as a noble steed.

It stopped beside its child and finally realized something quite important.

_‘I cannot bring them with us on our journey. I will lose them in Retribution. But if we do not leave you will not be able to scold your brother and I will not be able to see Feather again.’_

Mugman hugged the tiny form of his brother to his chest. The baby squirmed but fell content against the cool blue and gold fabric. He turned his own doe-eyes on his Domain as a shadowy cat let his baby self chase its tail.

“Please! What if we keep them on the scales?”

 _‘And if they are needed again, the children will be brought out as well, placing them in danger. Not only that, but their guardian is waking and I am sure it will be unpleasant for him to discover his charges missing.’_ The whistling snores had stopped, drawing the attention of the infants. Mugman whined, and slowly put Cuphead back down.

***

“ _You ancient smelting pot refuse! We could have had thousands of photos of this! Thousands! Explain yourself you waste of tin!”_ Bon Bon cried like a warrior scorned. Elder Kettle flailed, ruining the image. Rumor cried in horror when the scene vanished. Jendy told Bon Bon to string Elder Kettle up. Cuphead slapped his palm to his face.

‘ _I cannot care for two of my child. He is a handful as is and I am only one Domain. Scale for all that is wonderful please do not.’_ Cuphead’s Domain ranted under its breath, sinking back into the shadows.

***

“Okay baby big brother, I’ll give you back, but you have to promise you’ll not get into any trouble. Mayhem is fine, but trouble is bad, understood?” Mugman held his hand out and his index finger was promptly grabbed. He felt a whine build in his chest, but pressed on, determined. He turned to his own infant self. Honestly if he wasn’t so used to his own cute he’d probably be melting by now. His Domain sure was.

“And you have to swear you’ll do everything in your power to keep him out of trouble. We’re his impulse control. Without us he does really dumb things and frankly mine would have died earlier than he did if it wasn’t for me. Okay?” His younger self cooed. He hesitantly shifted back until he was dipping one leg into the water.

“Be wonderful you two!” He cheered and fell back into the water. Their caretaker started awake at the sound of a splash. His old body squealed as he got to his feet and hurried over to the little children. He called for them and they dutifully started to crawl back. At least they did until Cuphead decided it would be the perfect time to show off how he could get on two feet now, only to fall onto his brother who’d stopped to watch. The tiny pile of squirming limbs let out a burst of teeny giggles, and Elder Kettle sighed fondly.

“Such trouble you are.” He said, plucking the two up and carrying them away as his body warmed enough to lull them into a comfortable snooze.

***

Mugman was starting to see a pattern as he slipped through various worlds. He got the distinct feeling the well was watching him for his reaction. Like it was showing off and wanted him to swoon or praise it. But when he came out, soaked and still rattling from the icy blizzard he’d been sent to, he wasn’t thinking about how amazing the well was. More how much it would take to seal the well up when he got back and perhaps move Elder Kettle’s brother to a mirror instead. Perhaps a bowl even.

“Well that’s new.”

He looked up from the ground, stunned to silence at the vision of his sibling in clothing of long ago.

“What?” Mugman couldn’t even begin to think of eloquence, not when the memories were flooding his mind just as much as the intruding water was flooding out.

“Usually the dumb thing tells us how many times we’ve failed. Are you the new and improved reminder?” His alternate sibling grumbled, keeping his hunched position. He held one severely cracked leg to his chest protectively. One of his arms was laying on the ground, waiting to be reattached. He had chips and cracks spidering all over his body and flashes of fury were brewing at the horrid sight. Beyond that, into the soul itself, a mistake he would have laughed at had he not been too horrified to see even a false sibling in pieces before him.

“No? I don’t… Really? The money in the casino? _That’s_ what you bet on?” Find even ground, get the clearly nervous brother in red to settle, show there was no threat. Not from the shadows and _certainly_ not from Mugman. It was his mortal sibling; he _couldn’t_ raise even his voice at the other.

“Hey! It sounded good at the time!”

“He keeps exactly two coins in the vault at all times. The wealth of the casino is outside, tucked somewhere in Hell.” Mugman answered plainly. His other brother went wide-eyed, almost gaping like a fish before throwing his only attached arm into the air and letting out a noise of frustration. Mugman laid on his belly, kicking his lower legs up and his elbows bent to support his upper chest.

“You could have made a deal for cool powers.” He teased. “Like the power to never shatter or break or even become damaged!”

“Oh brag about it why don’t you? Is that what you did weird well guy taking my brother’s face?”

“I’m actually a Mugman though, just not yours. And no, I did other things to get like this.” Cuphead’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders hunching further down in renewed suspicion.

“And what exactly is ‘this’?”

“Wouldn’t _you_ like to know.” Mugman singsonged, legs swaying back and forth. “And I can’t tell you how many times you’ve failed whatever it is you’re doing, but I do have something better than the glue you’re using. Unless, you like looking like what’s left in a pottery class dumpster?” A vial pulled from the shadows, full to the cork with honey courtesy of Rumor, and waved through the air. The suspicion turned to curiosity.

“This isn’t gonna poison me is it? I can’t really afford taking much of a break either, I got a bunch of contracts left. I’m only here because Mugs is trying to find more glue. Porkrind was running low by the start of Isle Two…” Mugman got up, trotting over so he could dip low and hold it just outside Cuphead’s reach.

“I vow on my Domain it won’t harm you at all. But! I just want to know _one_ thing.” Cuphead’s fingers twitched, it was odd seeing his brother decked out in a fancy outfit, with gold patters so thin and pristine he could only see them on the white porcelain when the light caught them. But it still felt like talking to his real brother, not just some weird false hallucination. It was hard to be afraid of someone who wore the doe eyes of his brother in blue. So, hoping it was something simple, he nodded.

“Who did this to you?”

“The stupid clown guy. I was trying to get—” Interrupted, he was given the vial, and Mugman mimed popping the cork off and taking a drink.

“Well, how’s about this other little brother give you a bit of divine intervention?”

“What? Hey is this honey? Wh—” Cuphead blinked, the other was gone. All along his body, his cracks and chips flared a warming green, sealing up seconds later. He hastily picked his broken off arm up, putting it to the break to see if it would reattach a full limb. It did so with gusto, right as a pillar of fire erupted from the roller coaster. Slowly, he turned back from the bright lightshow to the still waters, and squint.

“You coulda done that earlier instead of just telling me Hilda kicked me around thirty times.”

A few minutes after that, and after another tiny sip of honey, the vial was recorked so he could give the rest to his equally chipped up brother. The odd Mugman returned, a shivering squeaky form dragged behind him. If Beppi wasn’t made of balloon, the pretzel shape he was currently bent into would have been _far_ more painful looking. Even so, the singe marks all over him and the fact that right before Mugman spoke, the roller coaster gave out a final cry before toppling into seared ashes, spoke _volumes_ of what the thing wearing his brother’s face could do.

“I’m terribly sorry but what was it you needed from him?”

“He uh…. Contract…” Cuphead gaped, taking in the downed squeaky clown.

“And you ain’t getting it either!” Beppi cried, wiggling his toes, the only parts he could actually move. The hand around his throat, dainty in any other context, shifted until it gripped his nose and yanked him closer to bright gold eyes.

 _“Hand it over or I’m folding you in the shape of dog and letting you loose in Werner’s house.”_ The tone brokered no argument. Two fingers wiggled to point at a pocket. He was granted one free arm to hastily reach in and hand over the coveted piece of parchment. Mugman pulled a pin free from his outfit, tossing the light debtor into the air and stabbing him in the foot. Beppi immediately took off, squealing the entire time as he pirouette through the sky, back to the carnival.

“I think I recognize that name…” Cuphead muttered, pulling the debtor list from his pocket, Mugman caught sight of it and almost did a double take, still holding on the contract.

“What in the world are you doing trying to get these?” He knelt down to get a better look, uncaring of the swift nab that took the contract from his loose hold.

“You don’t know that? It’s the deal we got. I gotta get these debtors contracts back or it’s the pits for us.” Mugman let out a confused laugh.

“No, I meant, why do they have these? And how are there so many na—is that Uncle Cagney?!” Mugman snatched the paper, scanning it swiftly.

“That’s all the debtors that broke out of Hell with their contracts.”

“Porcelain loan shark enforcers, I can’t—” Mugman’s face began to bloom blue, his shoulders shaking with building mirth. He bit his lip, trying to stifle the laughter from the image alone.

“What?” Cuphead tilt his head, confused at the shift from dangerous to giggly mess before him.

“It’s—it’s so many! This is practically half of Inkwell I—” Mugman broke off into a fit of bright laughter, falling onto his back and rolling. The deity in blue wiped a tear from his cheek with his finger, fanning his face with the list to try and compose himself. Cuphead could sort of see why it was so funny, the big bad Devil needing two cups to do his dirty work. But he’d also gotten kicked to the curb too many times, and had so many more left, he wished he could find it funny and nothing more. Sensing his gloom, his not-sibling gave him a bright- _bright_ smile and reached _into his shadow_ for a pen. Now Cuphead was just terrified he was talking to something else from hell that was setting him up.

“I’m not a clown but I know how to turn that frown upside down.” He lilted merrily, starting to jot down little notes in nice, neat handwriting. He wrote only by those without check-marks, humming a tune that made Cupheads tense shoulders instantly slump and his uncomfortable posture to relax. Something echoed by another who was him, but wasn’t. Separated by a body of water did little to quell the effectiveness of the warm tune.

The paper was handed back over after a few minutes, bearing little notes about various weaknesses and methods of approach. To go from having to suck in a breath and boost his courage via copious amounts of coffee before inevitably getting beat down by debtors twenty times his size; to having a handy list of things that would help ease the tasks ahead, was enough to make Cuphead perk right back up. Mugman stood, brushing his shendyt off then clapping his hands together.

“I think that should make things easier. Or more interesting at least.” Cuphead looked up from the paper, stuffing it into his shirt as he hastily stood on fully healed legs. He really did have to get that stuff to his brother.

“Are you leaving?”

“I am, I’ve got my own… _brother_ to get back to. I’ve got a favor to return.” The edge to the last sentence made Cuphead instinctively wince, immediately feeling bad for whoever was going to be on the receiving end of that tone.

“You don’t have time to stick around? Maybe help?” It was a bit nervous at the start, petering off at the end as Cuphead realized he’d just asked someone still mostly unknown to him for help. Mugman gave him a wry grin.

“I could, but I don’t think that’d make the lesson truly effective, do you?”

“Well no, I mean I’ve gotten plenty of scoldings by Elder Kettle and Mugs alike. But, what if Devil doesn’t uphold his end?” The other Mugman frowned, and tilt his head, shifting his weight to his heels as he rocked back, hands behind his back in thought. Glancing around at the empty clearing, Mugman held one hand up, letting his Domain run the show for a moment. He couldn’t help it; it was difficult enough to leave his other brother to whatever fate awaited him having to face off against not-so-friendly versions of his adopted family and friends and fellow gods. But the sheer idea of letting his brother into Hell when even his Devil constantly showcased how bad an idea it was to tread into his world without proper precautions, he _couldn’t._

In his hands, a tiny flame flickered. Thread thin as a spiders began to rise from it like smoke, spiraling up and then down, wrapping around the little ember until it began to grow and build, going from the size of a marble to a billiard ball. It stopped when it was as big as his palm, a bright, gleaming gold mass of dancing threads. It gave off wave after wave of heat, making Cuphead a bit hesitant to take it when offered.

“If Mr. Devil isn’t going to play nice, toss that his way and give him a taste of divine retribution, okay?” The coy way he spoke was reminiscent of the god of luck when a game-changing piece had been added by him. As soon as it was tucked away in his pocket, the warmth shifted, soaking comfort into the brother in red, and his nerves settled swiftly.

At least until heavy gunfire erupted. Followed swiftly by cannon fire so loud and powerful it shook the ruins. A shriek of wrath _very_ familiar to Mugman roared from the isle. Before either could speak, the ground shook again, and a ball of rock-hard sugar wiped out a pillar, sending the thing into the well. Cuphead instantly turned sheet-white, fear rocketing through him.

“ _Mugs.”_ He whispered. He should have realized it had been a while since Mugman had gone to get glue. He _should have._ Without saying another thing, he sprint down the path, faster than the god beside him could blink. Another hail of fire, sending Mugman staggering backwards. He’d never heard Mama Bon Bon so furious before. He tried to regain his footing, mind made up to stay and help. But the already broken pillar began to pitch forward, sending him backwards to dodge it before it could crush him, and the next he knew he was surrounded by cool waters that swiftly turned black as the well carried him to the next location.

***

“Somebody want to explain better than the engineer could about what’s so urgent you actually sent the Express into Hell?” Various Deities who’d been focused on seeing into the well hadn’t seen one of the two they’d been searching for appear on the side least populated.

“I’d think it was fairly obvious by now.” Bon Bon answered, waving a hand to the ruined image after being the first to recover. She glared at it, angry at her other self for ruining the view before she could see that her boy got out safely. She was getting tired of Elder Kettles’ magic finding time and time again it wasn’t enough to both focus on the world her boy was in and draw him back to his correct home. Elder Kettle too, looked fed up with it, and they weren’t the only ones. Working with Devil, even if it meant they’d owe him, it was worth it.

“Humor me.” Devil deadpanned, tail flicking in agitation.

“We’ve found ourselves in need of a means of getting Mugman back. There was…an _incident_. And when Djimmi tried his method, he came out looking like something Werners robotic cat threw up.”

Devil arched a brow, less agitated now as the picture solidified.

“It’s taking him on a sight-seeing tour then? What do you think I can do?” He knew exactly what they thought he could do, but he wanted to hear it from them. It was always a treat to get the jumpy, judgy gods to admit he wasn’t just a mindless, angry beast looking for nothing more than mayhem and destruction. Bon Bon scowled; it was Cuphead who answered.

“Please, it’s not giving my brother back and it’s been near two days now. He never does well away from me so long and I’m starting to get twitchy.” The young cup pleaded. He wasn’t as cute as Mugman, unable to truly effectively break out puppy eyes the way his brother could, but he could pout just as good, and he looked up at Devil with big, earnest eyes full of hope. Devil’s ears flicked back, hostile amusement fading. He stared down at the water, tail slithering closer and closer until its tip tapped onto the water. It flickered and rippled at the touch.

Elder Kettle’s own Domain fed the feeling of slick, oily heat slithering along the partner Domain, searching for something and finding a sneering Domain none too pleased at the intruder. But where other Domains recoiled or snapped back in retaliation, Devil’s snort, _amused._ The god of wisdom and the bones deep in the water shuddered.

“Don’t you _dare_ pull that with _me._ ” His deep voice grate on the tense atmosphere.

“Could you bring him back like that?” Cuphead asked, ignorant and uncaring of the discomfort the others felt around Devil. Devil narrowed his fiery red eyes, debating as his tail retreat back to him.

“I’ve got something in Hell close to this. Give me some time, consider this the start of your tab.” The beast of sin ultimately answered, already reaching for his pitchfork.

“Thank you!” The glittering cherry red eyes so full of _hope._ Devil didn’t answer as he slipped into the shadows.

Whatever Devil had done left a sour note to the Domain already furious with so many others buzzing around it. And it began to stew and simmer in building ire, ignoring its partners pleas. The red child hadn’t seemed to mind being so close, and hadn’t been so upset when first visiting. Certainly not when he needed its assistance to clear his mind and see the correct answer to the problems inflicting Inkwell. But now he was just about fussing like a child whose toy had been taken. It hadn’t even done anything different to the blue one that it’d done to him!

Eventually, perhaps once the blue one had gotten bored or it had nothing more to show off to the young god, it would give him back. But now, now it was annoyed, growing angrier and angrier, and so, it began to plot. Perhaps there were ways of scaring the one it had away from wanting to return, wouldn’t _that_ be interesting? A change of pace, a shift in fate it could actually have a hand in, something it’d never had before. It didn’t hate the blue deity, certainly not. And it most definitely didn’t hate the red one either, but it _loathed_ being backed into a corner at the behest of deities who had never cared about what it did before now. Hypocritical, more so when they were plenty content to use it with hardly even a nod of thanks, treating it and its child like a fancy pool more than the deity he was.

It was nice when the hound had been so respectful in requesting its assistance. Easy assistance for wonderful payment, it didn’t even have to take a second to think. It might have gotten distracted a few times, but it did what was requested and that had been nice. Especially when the hound had remained polite, its partner gleefully chatting with it not to know what it could know, but what it was thinking. Being treated like a tool was frustrating, more so when its child couldn’t fight back, bound by a mistake of its partner who now refused to give it an edge in. Far too worried for its own child’s happiness to care about anything else.

But of course. If they wanted their nice child back, they’d get him. And it whispered this to its partner. And its partner became elated!

“Ah, there’s been an offering.” Its’ child spoke to the rest now that the window to its face wasn’t being used to spy on things they never would have cared to watch otherwise.

“What?”

“We will bring him back to Inkwell. Is that what is desired?” The question had been directed to Cuphead.

Cuphead nodded enthusiastically. Right up until Djimmi practically lunged for him. But that was who it was watching confirmation from, and with it given, the next the blue child fell into the water, it would be Inkwell he’d return to.

Djimmi leaned his face close to Cuphead’s rather wide-eyed one.

“Kid. When we get this settled, you and I are going to have lessons on ‘loaded statements and _reading between the lines’_.” The wish god hissed as realization hit the others. Elder Kettle’s Domain was rebuffed the next it tried, simply being told it would have to wait to see like everyone else. The Domain seethed, furious at its partner, but strained now and exhausted, it had little fight left.

He’d return to Inkwell, but it wouldn’t be theirs. And it wasn’t giving them any view into what it was doing.

***

“Okay, clearly I’ve done something to upset you.” Mugman spoke to the empty air, in a pretty forest clearing devoid of life outside of chirping birds and wildlife. Wind danced through bright red leaves, the light pink grass swayed around him. The white bark refracted warm sun down onto the area, bathing the world in an almost dreamlike quality.

“Whatever it is, I truly am sorry, but I can’t do more than apologize if you don’t tell me what I’ve done.” He rested on his back, head tilted towards the water lapping at the hand still dipped in the offending pool. “Please, was it something I’ve said? Are you mad I fell in? I know I shouldn’t have been so close to the edge but Elder Kettle’s brother was lonely and we wanted him to play with us. Should we have included you as well? Other Domain’s don’t like talking to us as much. Sally’s is nice, and Brineybeard’s really likes Cuphead. But forgive me, I only ever hear what you say through Feather. Are you upset with something?”

He wasn’t sure why he was just asking now, but he was exhausted and starting to become afraid. The anger had died by now. Replaced by a growing fear he’d be stuck doing nothing but falling into the well until he lost his mind and forgot just where he’d come from. He didn’t want to threaten it, not when it had full access to his fate. He knew his Domain was stressed and frazzled, he didn’t need to add to it by making the thing dropping him in unknown worlds angry. He almost wished he’d stayed with the Knight and Lady. Perhaps if he stayed in one world for a little longer, it would soothe the scrying Domains’ enthusiasm and it’d bring him back.

He’d been resting in this world for a few hours now. Hopeful that not moving would also double to help his brother and the rest find him. He’d never seen them pull anything out of the well, and they always tread carefully around it, like it was poison instead of water. Perhaps that was what it was? It was lonely? He didn’t know, it wasn’t like the well was offering up answers. He hadn’t even seen the alternate in the well through all the worlds he’d fallen into. The panic swelling in his chest had died a little in the peace around him, sun soothing the rattle he’d gotten the more anxious he got.

He didn’t know how his brother was doing. If he was still okay, healthy. If he was sick or if someone had hurt or yelled at him, Mugman wasn’t there to mitigate whatever punishment the gods doled out on him. Sure Mugman was angry to have been knocked into the well, and he was still going to get revenge. But he wasn’t _that_ angry. And it was _his_ brother. _His_ to scold and prank and retaliate against. Bon Bon was wonderful but she didn’t understand when Cuphead’s pouts were earnest and when he was just trying to get out of trouble faster. What if they did something that truly hurt Cuphead? Something that rattled him worse than just hiding his head in sand? Elder Kettle had done it plenty of times.

He could still recall the times Cuphead had been too rough playfighting and to punish them, Elder Kettle had separated them entirely. A barrier preventing Cuphead from apologizing properly to Mugman out of the belief that his crying and wailing was from him being upset playtime had been interrupted. Mugman had always hated those punishments, and those had been his biggest reason for understanding how his expressions and mannerisms could worm their way into Elder Kettle’s soul, weaken him until the barriers were only ever up for a few minutes. Then not at all, not as they grew older and he appeared less and less.

Even after death he used it, studied exactly how people reacted, what made them flush with anger, what antics of Cupheads’ were too much. Was that smarmy grin the culprit for the snakes ire? What about the tone of Cuphead’s voice? They didn’t get he was teasing them, answering his own mischievous desires more than being intentionally antagonistic. Was that last statement too much? Were the glares turning sharper? Was a punch about to be thrown? How much would it take to calm this mortal down? Or would it be better to let the snake pick him up from the ground, let Bon Bon’s wrath take care of everything? Was Bon Bon feeling up to the task of watching over two young porcelain children who didn’t have any sort of parental figure constantly in their life? Did she need Cuphead’s special brand of playful mayhem?

He wasn’t there now, and the last time he’d been away so long had been because he’d believed his brother to be dead. He hated it, hated it _so damn much_. What he hated more though, was how he didn’t _know why it wasn’t bringing him back._

So deep in thought, lost in it as he was, he didn’t feel the water climbing his arm, sliding like tendrils up to his shoulder. But he certainly felt it tighten and yank him in before he’d even managed a noise.

_‘Per request.’_

He swore he heard over the rush of water in and around him, blinding him temporarily.

When he next emerged, he did what he’d done the past few worlds, immediately firing up the golden flames and searing away the intrusive water so he didn’t have to feel like a drowned rat for a few embarrassing minutes. Blinking away droplets of steam that clung to his lashes, he looked around at an Inkwell he thought he’d never see again.

It wasn’t as bad as his mortal trek through, but it somehow felt even more bleak. The sky was laden with heavy clouds practically bursting at the seams with withheld rain. A somber grey coated everything. He could hear people as well. Quiet, nervous shuffles of people desperate to pretend everything was still fine and dandy and there was no need to uproot their lives with whatever little money they had to flee. Dry grass in balding patches all around him. The stones bore signs of battle, recent based on the lighter stone revealed in one body sized crater. But what manner of weapon, he couldn’t tell.

Where lightbulbs should have been, hellfire danced instead. He got the distinct impression he was looking at what would have become of a place where Hell decided to expand beyond the cave. It was outright upsetting, and he wished he’d gotten a camera so he could take photos and show this place off to Devil. Not that he thought their version wanted anything to do with increasing Hell’s footprint. Not unless it was part of his and King Dice’s game that was.

“I spy with my little eye, an interesting thing!” Mugman jolted, shoulders rising sharply, head twisting so fast his straw continued to swirl around three more rotations. He felt his soul grow cold, but couldn’t find it in him to care whether the obvious sign of his distress was blatant as he felt it was. Not a hint of cheery cherry red. Not an ounce of playful mischievousness. Impishness gave way to pure malice. A need for innocent pranks gone, crushed under the heel of a near manic want for delivering misery onto others. It was the worst of everything in his brother, amplified by traces of hellfire and a soul chained to Hell, soaking and basking and warping in the flames.

“Not shooting at me immediately? Definitely not mine. Shame! I’m starting to get _lonely._ ” Even his voice was different. There was an edge of instability, zero empathy.

“I- I can’t do that.” Mugman hadn’t meant to stumble over his words, hadn’t done it in years. But it was _horrifying_ to see his brother as this one was. The alternate, hands loosely stuffed in scuffed shorts pockets the color of ashen mahogany. Eyes a piercing black ringed red narrowed in budding delight.

“Huh? Don’t know how? Must be boring where you come from then. Or are you too ritzy for scuffles?” He was being tested, he knew it well and good.

“I don’t need to.” It was fine, everything was fine, he could handle a highly terrifying sibling.

“I’ll be honest, when the imps said something interesting had shown up, I didn’t believe them! Inkwell got real boring after all the contracts were passed over. But hey! Small mercies I suppose.” A hand was offered to Mugman, and despite his better judgement, he took it. Immediately poisonous heat slid down his palm, to his wrist, where it met his own flecks of fiery defense. He was hauled to his feet and the other Cuphead threw his arm over Mugman’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Hey, you’re Mugs right? Not the one I know, but one, right?”

“No I’m the physical manifestation of your conscious, I’m only showing up to tell you to stop forgetting to dust the top shelves.” His Domain was _wonderful_ for helping rebalance him, but it too was on edge, unsure of how to react. It was a threat so close to its vulnerable child, but it was its partner’s child who was the threat.

“Is that where you went? Boy have I got things to disappoint you with! Why don’t you walk with me, and I’ll regale you with the time I set Cagney on fire.” He paused, a glint in his eerie gaze. “Well, o _one_ of the times. There were a lot. He’s very flammable. A lot of them are actually.” Unnatural strength Mugman hadn’t expected him yanked him forward. “And after that, you can tell me how I can get my brother t’ stop tryin’ to kill me every time I try and be a good big brother and say hi?”

“I think that ship sailed when you—” He was cut off by the hand pressed hard into his shoulder bursting into an evil, twisted mockery of the retribution shot his own sibling had. It faded after a moment, threat made clear.

“It’s getting annoying. _Real annoying_. I ain’t got the patience for it anymore, you understand?”

“I don’t think you want to take me to that casino _big brother._ ” He was _scared_ , so scared, but that would only make his Domain far more likely to snap. And Hell wasn’t the best place for a deity who could purge the worst of someone out of them.

“No but I think I do. Boss’ll find this a riot I bet. Oops!” The other Cuphead put a hand to his mouth, wickedly sharp teeth not remotely hidden by the faux surprise. “I’m not supposed t’ say that around you, but you aren’t you. You’re you, not him. I miss him.” They were on the bridge to Isle three now, people avoided them like the plague. Some openly shocked at the sight.

The barest edge of familiarity came to that warped face then. Wistful but for an ephemeral moment, gone again in a blink. Mugman hated how he was rattling, even if it was barely there shakes, it couldn’t have been missed. But the more he tried to feel anything else but fright, the worse the scenes of this Cuphead’s life got. From making the same deal as that other Cuphead all cracked up, to shooting his brother in the face after sealing an even worse deal. Fear. He’d been afraid to fight Devil, and so tired of taking on debtors, even more so after the gauntlet that had been King Dice. He’d taken the easy way out, heedless of what it would mean beyond not having to jump back into a fight. And his Mugman had suffered for it.

“No you don’t.” He missed what had been, not what was. Missed a docile baby sibling who’d follow him and look up to him and gleefully get into shenanigans without even needing coaxing. But he’d shot that sibling in the face, nearly killing him had it not been for the pitchfork. Frankly surprising considering that thing didn’t like meddling in many affairs.

“Aw, don’t be like that!” Cuphead put his weight down on the foreign brother, bearing down on his side and making him stumble mid step. Bright blue eyes he hadn’t seen in quite a long time narrowed briefly. “You know that’s a pet peeve of mine.” The heat was back, making his cool soul liquid roil in discomfort.

In response, Mugman latched on to his own budding annoyance. He let his own fire rise, chasing the sickly flames off, only serving to make the mahogany brother snicker.

“You’re gonna be fantastic, Boss has been lookin for extra help, and hey! You can’t shoot me! So maybe I’ll get to relive the old glory days.”

“I’m not going in there Cuphead. You aren’t listening.” Mugman tried to roll the hand off his shoulder, instead, the magic the other brother carried crackled instantly to life, and broke clean through his arm. He felt his soul turn to ice as the limb fell to the ground. They’d reached the place Hott usually haunted, but all that remained were overgrown tracks halfway through the process of being entirely devoured by the ground.

“There you go again, being difficult! Must be a common trait.” The grin, the too wide, too cruel grin full to the brim with flash fury. The limb fell further still into shadows, and blue eyes began to shine gold.

“Difficult?”

Now, back when the two had been trying to figure out just what made a big brother the big brother, and what made a little brother the little brother, they’d learned several things. They’d had to go off of other factors outside of age. Neither knew who was the older twin, just that it appeared in every story they read or heard with siblings. One was older, the other was younger. In many of the fairytales, they’d found that often, the elder sibling was the one who started things. The elder had more responsibility, and was tasked with protecting the household. Sent out first by the family when odd things occurred or when a strange ogre wanted a bride.

Mugman hadn’t liked the thought of doing that. He wasn’t keen on leading the way, nor was he fond of the idea of how much of a headache it would be to have to worry about weird sorcerers wanting brides to stuff into mountainside hovels. Or bearded strangers with magic keys and a penchant for killing sister after sister when they didn’t do as told by a random man who’d wagged coins in the face of their family. He’d been adamant then, that he couldn’t possibly be older. If being the one to cut off the head of creepy ogres and loony murderers meant sacrificing the right to make rules, then it wouldn’t be much of a sacrifice to give up.

Of course, that came with the other thing they’d noted. The younger sibling was often the patient one, or the crybaby clinging to the shirt of their elder and awaiting whatever decision the older one made. Mugman was all for using his tears to get them out of trouble, so that requirement he’d all but knocked out of the ballpark. He could cry, absolutely he could cry and pout and whine if that meant getting more treats or making people assume he was harmless. But more than that, sometimes, it was the youngest who, following the steps of the elder, did what they weren’t supposed to, but found a crafty way to escape punishment. And even Cuphead readily admit that Mugman was the sole reason Cuphead probably wasn’t permanently grounded for life. So of course, that meant that Cuphead was the headstrong elder guiding the way into mayhem or glory, and Mugman was the sometimes-bratty younger sibling following close behind and doing damage control. He remembered it clearly. The two of them sitting before a table, listening as a younger sibling threw a tantrum and the elder cried out.

“Don’t be difficult sister!”

Cuphead had snickered, and later, when Mugman refused to show Cuphead the neat flower he’d found growing in his garden, he repeated the phrase.

“Don’t be difficult Mugman.”

But that had only irked Mugman. Being difficult was what had gotten that youngest sister the ability to deliver her beheaded siblings to her parents and somehow revive them. Being difficult was what allowed that younger sister the chance to escape. Being difficult was what let the siblings push a cannibalistic old woman into her own oven and bake her like Bon Bon made roasts. So, he had given Cuphead that smile that to anyone else meant merriment, but to Cuphead meant death was now looming over his shoulder.

“Difficult? You think I’m being difficult?” And that was exactly how Cuphead learned that no matter what Elder Kettle thought, his brother was _unholy._

It was apparent that this one had gotten away with saying it once because of surprise.

“Why, dearest big brother,” Fear melted, escorted quite primly off the premises by a Domain feeding the furnace of wrath eagerly, just as infuriated someone had harmed its child, relation be damned. “I’m sorry, but you’re unfamiliar to me. And I don’t want to be a bad baby brother _oh no._ ” This Cuphead knew he wasn’t the same as his Mugman, and perhaps, that was his biggest mistake. Assuming this one would be like his, and act like his. Perhaps that came from his clear belief that the pitchfork was what drove such fury that he was forbidden to even be in the same room as his little brother. Mugman didn’t know. “I’ll have to ask a teeny favor from you then, so I can not be… _difficult._ ” Blue melted into gold, and gold sparked with green, and arctic eyes locked dead on confused and surprised black and red.

“Tell me when I become too much for you, okay?”

***

Cuphead kept muttering curses at himself under his breath. The very thought that he could strike fear in his sibling so much so that Mugman hadn’t even put up half a fight when dragged away scared him deeply. He felt cold worry wash over him the longer the well showed nothing but empty sky. He also made a note to his Domain to never say anything remotely resembling ‘bet’ or ‘deal’ or anything that could get him in that sort of trouble. He didn’t care that his Devil couldn’t do what those ones could. He wasn’t risking it. He couldn’t recall _ever_ hearing his brother’s voice shake with such fear directed at him before.

It hurt.

It hurt and he didn’t care that Elder Kettle was steaming from exertion. The god seeing exactly what the well had done and was tossing caution to the wind to get his former charge out of that world and back to safety. It wouldn’t be enough. Cuphead’s Domain couldn’t use the scales same as Mugman’s couldn’t navigate the waters of retribution. Domains had their strengths and weaknesses. Djimmi’s couldn’t read the innermost desires, only what the gist was. Hilda’s couldn’t bring to life what it could whip up in dreams. Bon Bon wouldn’t be burned by Grims fire, but she couldn’t breathe it herself, and he couldn’t adequately defend a home from anything other than himself. Elder Kettles wasn’t geared to what its partner excelled in, and that included controlling the scrying waters, and what entered or exited them.

None of them could see or hear anything other than panicked voices. Cala Maria instantly dove lower, muttering to the ocean around her, straining to figure out how to keep an eye on him, but there was nothing they could do. Not with how limited they already were with Elder Kettle’s Domain struggling to keep ahold of the world the missing deity was in.

***

The casino was its usual level of busy noise spread all throughout the large building. From the race track’s cries of victory or defeat, to the quiet murmur from the billiard tables. Then the door was torn from its hinges and the resident porcelain bouncer was sailing through the air into the bar.

“I thought I told that brat not to go near his—” The manager, about to do damage control, froze midstep. Stuck between the craps tables and the roulette tables, in the doorway, void black shadows lapped like flames, sliding into the room. The thing that entered, though it looked like the other kid, it sure as hell _wasn’t._ He didn’t hesitate then, bolting back to the stairs, sprinting for the door that would take him to the tower. Some _thing_ had come into their casino, and the flames it carried _weren’t right._

“Well now I’m confused. Didn’t you want me to come to the casino? Has your mind already begun to slip?” The cheery tone didn’t match the grit teeth or the gleaming malice. A demon, none too pleased his game had been interrupted by a tiny upstart, stood and got right in front of the brat.

“This is th’ tenth time this week y’ve gotten pissy! Can’t y—” He never finished, erupting into a golden inferno, then, teeth dug into his calf, ripping a chunk of muscle and flesh from his body. He tried to shriek, but something within the flames slammed into him, sending him to the floor, where his throat was torn out and he was devoured as if imps had caught him cheating. The thing didn’t even pause, continuing forward as if he wasn’t leaving a gurgling mess in his wake.

 _‘So many to feed my beloved Feather. So many, I do not know where to start.’_ Whispers from the shadows made the remaining people in the casino sprint for the exits, suddenly aware this wasn’t the average intruder thinking it fun to take on their boss or manager.

“I’m not hearing a ‘don’t do this’ from you, this must not be _difficult_ , that’s fine.” The alcohol drenched form, devoid of one arm and half a leg, was hauled to his feet. “I can make time to be _the best baby brother.”_ He tried to speak, but those wide, _cruel_ gold eyes, knew what he was going to say, and wouldn’t give him an inch. He was brutally thrown up, then kicked over into the sea of slot machines, cracking down hard on one.

Mugman _seethed_ , fire dripping from him like water, shadows aglow with unholy wrath. But it wasn’t enough for his Domain to see that no amount of battering would work. No amount of throwing him around would suffice for the damage done to its child. No, something else had to be done, and for that, it needed attention. Specifically, the one stomping down, followed closely by the one who looked like the luck god if that god lost some spine. It was clear as well, that the other had figured it out as well. That with no soul, with no semblance of ability to truly regret or mourn or lament, there was never a chance to atone. He’d never wizen up and go about trying to honestly fix things. Only chase what his greedy little soul demanded it have. It wanted the past, with all the benefits of the now, without pausing to think of just who he’d have to step on to get there.

“And who the Hell is destroying my casino?” Before entering, the shadows had shifted, wrapping around telling clothing and replacing it with something more akin to the past. Black shirt, blue shorts, ankle high boots, and a tinge of darker shade to the porcelain. Enough to make him appear less unnatural. An oddity from the well, not a force of nature. It wanted to play a game, and it intended to take every advantage it had.

“Oh no, I’m just visiting. He told me not to be difficult, but I don’t know what he considers difficult. Do you know?” A smile that could have been angelic in another world, in another setting. “But that’s boring now. Hey, aren’t you that weird guy that likes playing games?”

Devil paused, leg outstretched to take another step. There was a weight to those words, a dangerous weight that his manager also picked on. Here was this tiny thing, surrounded by destruction he caused, bringing memories of a similar event before soul contracts had been given over and shots were taken and new, bitter lackeys were aquired. It was almost eerie how close the image was, but in a way, that made it easier for Devil to regain his bearings. Business as usual is what this called for.

“Weird? You come into _my_ casino and don’t even bother reading the sign?!”

“Oh I just saw ‘casino’, I didn’t notice a name, are you important?”

“I’m the guy that’s going to boot you back to whereever you came from.” A twitch in that smile, sinister, then back to cloyingly innocent.

“Are you? That’d be fine, but I’m awful bored, I want to play a new game now but my playmate isn’t all in one piece now, would you play with me?”

“Ha? You want to try your luck with me?” A chandelier above flickered. A chill ran down the ruler of Hell’s spine. “Fine, but when I win, you’re fixing all this.”

“Really? You’ll play a game? Can I pick?”

“That won’t be enough to handicap me runt, but sure.”

“Blackjack.” No hesitation, not even a pause. Like it was his favorite game. He even pulled a packet of cards from his pocket. When Devil nodded, the cards were handed over to King Dice. The manager wasn’t too keen on the way things were headed, but he wasn’t going to tell his boss that, not when a game might mean keeping the damage to his casino low. The cards in his hands held an odd sort of feeling, they weren’t marked or weighted, that much he knew from the artful shuffle he did before dealing two cards to each on a table that wasn’t as destroyed.

“You ain’t from around here, or you’d know who I am, so who is my future lackey and why do you look so much like one I already got?” Devil, keen to get a bit of chatter up, a tactic he often used to make those dumb enough to gamble with him easier to mock later. He didn’t move to get another card dealt to him, staying his turn.

“Well, it’s a silly story. I don’t think you want to know about it.” A lone finger tapped, another card slid his way. “Do I look like someone you know? That’s quite fun! You look like someone I know too! But he’s a bit more feathery.” Devil’s claw dug into the table where he’d been tapping out a rhythm, his tail stilling. Yellow-orange eyes narrowed sharply. The smile given to him over the trio of cards made his ears flick down as the trickster part of him realized just what situation it was in.

A game that, if he got up and left, he’d lose, and whatever it was the other wanted, he’d get. He didn’t even know _what that was._

“That so?” The cards were laid on the table, Devil’s seventeen compared to the newcomers twenty. The silent agreement for two out of three pressed the game forward. King Dice tried harder to get a feel for the cards, just as aware the stakes on one side were unknown. But the cards almost felt…teasing. They never truly fit properly in his gloves, refused to obey motions that _always_ worked. Electric blue eyes flicked his way, and below him, seen only because he was looking down at what he was doing, a jackal skull _grinned_ a him. It vanished immediately after, point made quite clearly.

“I got these from a wonderful friend of mine, you wouldn’t be trying to make this game boring, would you?” Eyes all doe-like and glittering with mischief stared right into his soul, and King Dice could swear on his casino, the other saw _everything_ and found it _funny._

“Not at all.” King Dice replied smoothly, shaking off nerves as cards slid easily into place before the players. Devil squint at him, then at the cards, noting the same thing King Dice did.

“No, I think I’d like to hear where you’re from. It’s a fault of mine, I can get real nosy.” He tapped for a card, the other stayed, saccharine smile cloying to the others.

“I think you’d find it fanciful if I told you. Maybe even impossible.”

“You’re the brats brother, but you aren’t. I know because you’ve got my pitchfork, and if you were him, it would be here too. But it ain’t. So just who are you?”

“Awful rude to intrude without introducing yourself.” King Dice added. The tiny thing gave out a theatric gasp, eyes all wide and a blue flush across his cheeks.

“Goodness, I guess you’re right!”

“Drop the act too, You’re far too young to be trying to pull the wool over my eyes.” Devil’s nails clicked a mindless series of taps. The smile _twisted._

“Not one for games are you? How unfortunate.” He and Devil both let their cards drop. Devil’s ten, five, and three, to the grinning things queen and ace. He flickered in place, between one blink and the next, he was perched on the table so he no longer had to look up at them. King Dice flinched back, dropping cards that fell further still into shadows, returning to their owner.

“Not that it makes a difference. I’ve won, and you owe me. But what to ask for…” The queen of spades tapped his nose as the slight tinge flickered to reveal the far more noble attire. “Oh, I know!” He perked up, dropping the card behind him.

“You cheated?” Devil’s fur was standing on end, his nerves alight.

“No, no one can cheat with those cards, I told you! They were a very special gift from a godly fortunate one.”

“You never asked for anything, you just wanted a game.” King Dice wasn’t sure what possessed him to try weaseling out of the debt, but it was likely fear the casino would be lost. A slight white hand rose, and on it, a golden flame flickered to life. Every inch of Devil recoiled, so powerfully he reared back he almost fell from his chair. Instead he shot to his feet.

“It’s upsetting.” The entity said, examining the fire. “In my world, you’ve got a far better title than _angel_. And just wasting away in a casino? So unlike the one I know!” The fire began to crawl up his wrist, revealing a golden band, going further still, following glimmering threads along the thin arm, burning the illusion away.

“That one of yours wasn’t very nice. But I’m afraid manners won’t stick with him as he is.”

“The kid? You—”

“Got it in one.”

“No! I won his soul over fair and square! You really think one measley game is enough to win back—” The fire spread now, golden eyes peered at him. But so did another pair, taller than the slight form on the table, taller than even Devil. With towering ears and a freakish shadowed grin and eyes that blazed so bright it hurt.

“Tell me. Do you like your manager?” The entity said lightly, kicking one leg back and forth now.

“What?” Hellfire crept closer, and was promptly snuffed out by golden embers.

“Or the other workers? They’re all so _heavy._ Too heavy for the holy choir to keep ahold of. Perfect when you want to have competent workers I’m sure. But,” Golden light burst from the smoking area, from the roulette tables. And then King Dice began to shudder, collapsing to his knees as golden fire chased the shadows of his body, not burning, not _yet._ “I could fix that problem if you’re thinking of going back on this deal.” Devil listened to Wheezy cry out in agony, Piroulette staggering to the floor, spitting flames from her mouth. Mangosteen toppled over, drool tinged with gold. All of his workers seemingly ignited in a blaze out of nowhere, like Hellfire, but vastly opposite. A keen of pain released from King Dice.

“Alright! You made your point!” Devil didn’t like hearing panic in his voice, but it didn’t matter at the time. A Paper burst from hellfire into his hand and he all but shoved it over the table. The fire fully ate the illusion away, leaving the other’s true appearance in full view. It was grabbed carefully and scrutinized. The fire wreathed around his workers slowly began to die, leaving some charred, others hyperventilating, cowering from the origin of their pain.

“Humor me, what would happen if I burned this?”

“He’d get his soul back.” Devil spoke through grit teeth, fury and dread making his voice far rougher than normal. He and the smaller thing knew well and good what would happen, he was being played with. The entity had the upper hand here and was plenty glad to make it known. He’d known the one who’d caught the attention of his pitchfork could be vindictive, but hadn’t known it could reach such levels.

“But my alternate wouldn’t, he isn’t bound to this the same, is he.”

“No. I gave you the damn thing now—” The fire ate through the paper, chewing it into nothing, not even ashes remained. Not a single wisp of smoke so much as drift up from the incineration.

“ _Wonderful._ Maybe next time he’ll think.”

_‘Before he breaks my dear child. Thank you for cooperating, I do believe I am done here’_

And then it dawned on Devil. None had missed how the red cup had made it up from the pits below, hellfire repairing his limbs enough to move. He got close enough to see the contract go up, see his alternate brother give him a _vile_ grin, vanish, and then the full weight that had been lost from him descended and he collapsed in a heap.

Devil shuddered, aware now more than ever something beyond holy or hellish had been in his realm. Something that answered to nothing and no one. Something that carried a treasure close, and a mean streak closer still. It had known _everything_ , of course it had, it had seen exactly what was needed to deliver the most retribution onto someone who failed to heed warnings. Failed to heed time and time again the words of a brother in blue. Except unlike the true sibling, this one could and _did_ bite back.

***

The well was still unbothered, the path to it empty, free of people too afraid now to exit their homes. All except a lone teen who had one leg dangling from a ruin not quite in the well’s clearing, but on the path. The other leg was propped up so he could rest his laced fingers on his knee and his head on them. Unholy eyes peered at his duplicate, face carefully lacking in any hostility. A small smile played on his face.

“Awful thing of you to do.” He said when the other who wore his face was close enough. His remark was returned with a disbelieving huff.

“ _Difficult_ he says! Difficult! Like I’m a misbehaving child! He’s as old as I am! Or, mine is, I don’t know about yours. It wasn’t just awful, my self-proclaimed future husband calls it ‘salting the earth’, leaving desolation in your wake. And by the stars above did other Cuphead deserve a hearty smack of desolation.” The deity crossed his arms, pout in full force. The other nodded sagely.

“I wish I’d been less scared all that time ago. But Djimmi’s currently granting imp wishes and I don’t think he’d be quite accommodating of me.”

“Well you did shoot him in the face a lot. I almost asked for their contracts back too, but my Domain was in full control at that point so I didn’t have a lot of say.”

“It was worth it! At the time that is. Now, not so much. Are you going back into that well?”

“I’ve got to get back home.” The possessed nodded in understanding, keeping his relaxed posture as he pondered what would be in store.

“I still hate him, is that bad?” He spoke before the deity got too far. Mugman turned, brows furrowed.

“For not listening or for trying to kill you?”

“Both? Neither? It’s hard to say now, I can’t find the source of my hatred now.” It was almost wistful the way the possessed spoke, watching his heel hit the dingy marble.

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure how forgiving I’d be if he did to me what he did to you.”

“Fair enough. I’m sorry I can’t help you back home. Especially not with this wonderful revenge you’ve given me. But, it couldn’t hurt to at least try?” Pitchfork tines daintily dipped into the water, releasing a pulsating violet-red glow. The water crackled, fighting against the hum drifing through the air, rebelling against the foreign magic, cutting off all outside influences, including observers who were reaching the peak of impatience.

***

“Self-proclaimed future husband? Who…” Really, Hilda shouldn’t have even asked. It was all in how a certain ink demons eyes narrowed to slits that told her all she needed to know.

Jendy fumed at Bendy, immediately assuming and outright calling him a snitch.

“Don’t blame me!” Bendy snapped as Jendy pounced with a repeated cry of ‘Snitch!’ The two rolled, claws and teeth flashing before they were forcefully separated by Henry and Djimmi.

“You talk a lot in your sleep.” Cuphead mused, more attentive towards what exactly had been done to the other version of him. Whatever it was included Scale, and if Scale was taking control it had to be just as bad as an inky handprint controlling him like a puppet. He shuddered, ignoring the whine from the ink demon.

“I needed the element of surprise! Dammit! The one time ya don’t smother me with a pillow! Yer a waste of creativity!” He wailed, kicking out at Bendy as Bendy grinned maliciously a him.

“Bendy talks too, Mugs thinks it’s hilarious. Which reminds me, he’s fine with helping you practice, but he hates the slow waltz, so it’s best to stop thinking about asking him to.”

“And the future husband thing? Really? Do you even know what marriage is?”

“Of course I do! It’s when two people agree over rings t’ stick t’gether no matter how annoyin’ or crazy it gets. Henry said so.” The gods turned accusatorily at the dead man, and the dead man—clearly fighting back laughter—shrugged.

“That’s not inaccurate.” Henry said, as if that was his best defense. Bon Bon glowered at him, Sally pursed her lips in thought, leaning closer to her brother.

“How interesting do you think it would be to learn how a demon courts someone?” She questioned none too quietly. Hilda immediately drift further away, not wanting to be in range of the shotgun now in Bon Bon’s hands. Beppi hummed, squeaking his finger on his chin, mirroring his sister’s pose.

“Potentially delightful, definitely comical, definitely worthy of attention. I’ll mark it. Course, per tradition we’ll have to come up with threatening things to tell him should anything unfortunate happen to our nephew.” He answered. Neither cared to pretend to hear the audible grinding of teeth from the Hearth goddess.

“Hey, do you think Devil has figured something out? Djimmi asked, hopeful that the question would be enough to avoid an all-out war breaking out near the very vulnerable well. Bon Bon, still seething, face beet red, tapped the metal next to the shot guns trigger.

“How about we all take a breather, Elder Kettle’s looking awful and we’re tired. Clearly Mugman will be okay for a little.” Hilda clapped her hands together, taking the cue from her brother. Cagney nodded, plucking Bon Bon off the ground and using his size to drop her off a hearty distance away.

“I think the mortals were working on ideas too, why don’t Rumor and I go see what they’ve come up with.” The floral god motioned nowhere in particular in front of him, Rumor nodded, pausing only to give a quick hug and a reassurance that they’d fix things to the youngest deity.

“I’ll find Hott and ask him to check on Devil. I’ll also see if Wally’s found King Dice. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up already! Thought he didn’t hate the tykes.” Djimmi offered, dropping Bendy when it was clear Henry had a handle on things.

Elder Kettle didn’t speak, he just ambled off hurriedly, incensed that _still_ they didn’t have him back.

Soon, it was just Cuphead after the rest had wandered away, knowing he’d follow eventually. He stared down at the water for a moment, then fell into Retribution. He landed on familiar water, cool and soothing even through his boots. He waded through the ankle-high water, deep in thought as his Domain slipped through the water a good ways below him.

“I’m scared.” He said aloud after what felt like an hour. He didn’t know how long it actually had been, but didn’t spare a thought to that, sure his Domain would watch the time and keep him from staying too long. His Domain didn’t reply, simply listening already knowing Cuphead wasn’t done.

“It’s been two days. And its putting him in really dangerous places. What if he hadn’t gotten away from that creepy version of me? They won’t let me in the well, who would get him back?” He didn’t feel the tears building in his eyes, but he did feel them rolling down his cheeks.

“And you heard him! He’s tired, and scared! How am I supposed to help him when I’m stuck here, and he’s stuck in a stupid glorified bird bath! I don’t care how mad he is at me, I don’t care if he buries my head in the sand and leaves me for an hour, I—” His chest hitched, tears running faster as the fear that had been building began spilling over. He was swept up in robes and fur that turned him limp. He clung tightly to the thick, golden fur, stuffing his face in the soft strands. The scent of wet sand, blooming

blossoms in desert heat, and water filled his nose.

‘ _He will not.’_

“I bet he hates me, just like he said he’d never forgive that other me.”

_‘That is not what he said my child. He cannot hate you and he has always forgiven you. It will be no different this time.’_

Cuphead clung to the statement as hard as he did the fur. It was a grand reassurance spoken in such a way that he couldn’t _not_ believe it was true.

“What do you think he did to that other me? His alternate said it was real mean.” Something, anything to keep his mind from drifting back to the lack of blue and white beside him.

 _‘Scale has always been crafty. I am sure it was something truly devastating to none but the intended target. You can ask when they are returned to us. Rest now, I believe tomorrow shall be a turning point in this problem.’_ Before Cuphead could really protest, even just for show, his eyelids drooped, his body squirmed, pressing closer as the other began a steady glide through the water, keeping him above it on thick fur acting as a bed. In the soothing silence, the little deity slumbered, dreams stained with brewing fears and worries.

***

The pitchfork hadn’t really been trying to force anything, not with the oppressive air around the well being what it was. No, it only coaxed the well for better worlds, less mournful ones with no chances for happy endings like this world. So when the other fell in, it and its bound host gave a nod, and moved on, already plotting the next bit of fun to be had now that their sibling wasn’t protected by chained emotions.

***

Another Inkwell, but nice again, bubbly and peppy and Mugman didn’t really care. It was late, the full moon quite pretty in the soft indigo sky. But it wasn’t his world. He knew it wasn’t because the carnival area lacked the upgraded Ferris Wheel and other neat rides Beppi and Betrum brought to life. He was alone as well, which was just as good because he crawled over to one of the nearby ruins that formed a little alcove. He rested his back against the cold marble, tucked his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, and let his head drop so he could fight the ever growing hopelessness.

His Domain narrowed gold eyes at the well, blaming it for everything. Whatever thing the well had been going for was worthless. If it had been trying to show them anything, Scale did not care. It also started to understand that, much like how it couldn’t ever hope to dive into the deeper waters of Retribution without getting lost or needing Feather, that domain’s partner was just as limited. It was sure others had helped, they must have tried. It knew the gods and how they acted far too much to not know they’d have gone above and beyond by now to come up with ways of breaking free.

Nothing was working. Nothing was keying into them and letting even Retribution escort them back. Nothing on their side at least. Which is why Scale was remaining focused on the outside world. Not only to keep an eye out for its little child, but to observe all around it for possible clues. It was starting to get to the point where it was willing to dive until they found another world with gods and try from its end.

That line of thinking, matched by the dreadful sorrow building to a crescendo in its child, was what got the thing neither of them remembered to wake.

When a red cup had fallen in the well, he came back with a guest. A magical guest that latched instantly onto him, and—with even more enthusiasm—attached itself to Mugman as well. It never did much. When Cuphead wanted to lift something or withstand steady pressure, it would wake briefly and his strength would spike immensely the longer his body strained until it was easy to tear a massive chunk of rock from the ground and heave it miles off into the ocean so he could find a bug Rumor had told him was extra nifty. When foreign liquids not water tried staining him, such as the ink from the demons, it slid right back off, never able to get a grip. Mud found itself much the same and if it wasn’t for his clothing not having the same luxury, Cuphead would have been a puddle jumping nightmare every rain storm. It didn’t need, want, or have access to all the other things it could do. Not away from its parent magic pool.

But then, in the throes of wallowing misery it was surrounded by, it woke to a _very_ familiar hum. It called out, replying back when the hum paused to listen. It didn’t want to go back, but it couldn’t even begin to do what was desired of it. Couldn’t even attempt influencing the water.

But it knew what could try.

***

“And you’re sure it’s here again? I don’t see any—oh hold on.” It was a familiar voice, but not the same, and garnered no real reaction. Not until it was far closer and warmth that wasn’t quite a match filled the little alcove. “That is the scariest dog I have ever seen in my short years on this world.”

“Scarier than that one hellhound?”

“Definitely. Please don’t bite me, I don’t want to have to punch you. Hey! Oh its like another you! Even got blue on him!”

“Goodness, and just when we thought we’d figured out how to get the darn pit to stop spitting odd things up!”

“At least this one isn’t a giant lizard! Gee, you’re real timid aren’t ya? I’m Cuphead.”

A lone blue eye peered over a thin arm, observing the intruder now with open curiosity. And the porcelain doll smelling faintly of gears and cherry beamed a smile at him. A smile that faded at the streaks of blue tinted liquid staining the other’s porcelain cheek. Red stared at blue, a frown grew, then, resignation.

“I knew a day would come when I’d have to figure out how to beat fear into water. I just didn’t know it would be like this.” He slapped his knees, righting himself from his crouched position to stand and start rolling up his sleeves. “Get that weird magic of yours working, maybe make it all ice?” His statement was answered with dual giggles, and the petite version of the doll’s sibling emerged.

“It’s not the water, it’s the guy at the bottom. Though I’m not sure you have one.”

“Oh that’s better! Necromancy is easy.” The porcelain doll version of Mugman perked right up, clapping his hands, going along with the little game they were all playing. Cuphead squat at the side of the well, tilting his head side to side as he tried to see further down.

“Y’know. The more I look at this, the more I’m reminded of a mortar and pestle.” He spoke, then he started to examine the surrounding pillars. As he did so, his sibling shifted closer to his alternate.

“It won’t bring me back home. It’s been days now.” The Deity answered the silent question quietly. His hands tugged on loose threads in his outfit, a far cry from the jovial sibling of his. The doll wrinkled his nose, squinting at the well.

“So either there’s a failure to communicate, or there’s an attitude problem that needs adjusting.”

“I’m not sure how good an idea it is to mess with it too much, none of us really know how the well works beyond it being like that because the corpse. Our caretaker doesn’t like talking about him.”

Within one shadow, a houndish deity stared in mute horror at the monstrous _thing_ looming like a thick blanket over the other blue child. It stared back, despite not having any face. Swiftly, it glanced at the frail little pebble of magic that spawned from that _thing_ and the tiniest of whines slipped out into the silence between the two beasts. It tried to smile at the Scale, only the ‘smile’ was more a mortifyingly threatening grin. A feat that should have been impressive with how the _thing_ didn’t even have a mouth. Slowly, it shifted closer to the tiny piece, listening to the request, then shifted closer to the well. Its child mirrored the move to the well.

“While true, I’m fairly confident we’ll sort it out. If not, I’ve been practicing time magic!”

“He turned Elder into a toddler and we had to go to Grannie Chalice to figure out how to undo that.”

Rummaging around the ocean that was its body, the entity plucked a new piece from its mass, unseen tendrils slipping acoss the ground to the little piece of itself. The thing had just eaten, and had more than enough to spare for such a task. It didn’t have the finesse a Domain worlds away had. It couldn’t pick out a connecting thread and link the two worlds by itself. It wouldn’t have even known to search. Not without seeing it done. Experiencing the dive. Which meant giving more of itself over.

It didn’t mind, no, the little thing was just _precious._ So close to its host, it would have given a piece of itself over even if it hadn’t been prompted.

“Cuphead put the pillar down, we don’t even know if dropping that thing in the water will work. What if it eats everything that goes in?”

“There’s a leaf right there on the water!”

“On the surface!”

“Aw what’s the harm? Last I checked we didn’t have a dead body in there!” The pillar four times the size of the doll shifted on his shoulder and then, it was going into the drink. He’d found one that still a part sticking out upon cracking against the bottom.

The very soft, dirt caked bottom.

The very soft dirt caked, bottom that wasn’t actually devoid of everything.

The massive weight of the pillar clipped on something, snapping bones like twigs. As it dragged against the base, it smeared the remains further, and that was about the time the well reacted.

The water crackled to a rolling boil almost like a flashfire had been lit under the surface. Great heaving waves shot clear into the air from the center. The trio instantly stepped back and away. The water, then the ground, then the air itself, rumbled, grew dense with building _something_.

When the tension finally snapped, it _roared_. The deity ducked his head to his shoulders, wincing and closing his eyes at the force of the sound. The blue doll clamped hands over his ears, despite knowing it would do nothing. The red doll wondered when the fight was going to start because alternate or no, no one made his baby brother cry and got away in one piece. He didn’t have much of a chance though, not when _something_ archaic ripped out of the depths of the well, coiled around the newcomers midsection and closest leg, and before either of the other two could react, he was dragged in, vanishing into the well in a blink.

The well wasn’t done. It continued lashing out, knocking Cuphead down the path. When it went for the young mage, it was met with an ocean that found the little tantrum _adorable._ If it knew how to thank something, it would have pat the entity in the well on the head, bid it thanks for its cooperation, and then _crushed it into_ _nothing for swiping at its host._ Instead it bat it aside lazily, attention solely on the little piece no longer with them. The well, crushed under _weight_ , ceased its fury almost comically fast.

“Cuphead!”

“I just got sucker punched by water, give me a moment!”

“A moment?! You’ve gone and made things worse!”

“Won’t be worse when it’s dead!”

“Ugh!”

***

Inkwell shook, Cala Maria groaned in irritation, and Cagney screamed a horrendous cacophony back at the source of Inkwell’s new dance. The well rumbled, water splashing over the rim, soaking skirt hems and drenching everyone who’d fallen in range. Bon Bon grimaced, hiking her shotgun up to give off a warning shot to the floral nature god.

“ _KNOCK IT OFF.”_ She boomed, eclipsing every other noise so harshly the world fell silent.

“Oh sure, shoot at me, but not at the thing that started it.” Cagney groused, crossing his leafy arms across his torso. Bon Bon’s lips kicked up into a sneer practically spitting acidic fury.

“The _well_ currently has a _hostage._ If it didn’t, I’d have shot at it too. Now what in the stars made it shriek like that?”

Elder Kettle stared deadpan out at the water, steam rising off his boiling body.

“Pa says the well is being a jerk again, is it gonna give my brother back in pieces?” Cuphead emerged from the shadows now that the worst was over. Bon Bon’s red stained face only bloomed to lobster levels at the very idea. She _sneered_ at it, _daring it._

“No, it’s mad at you.” Elder Kettle’s brother spoke up, face appearing on the waters surface now that it was more still.

“Me? But I didn’t do anything!” Cuphead cried, affronted to be blamed for something he didn’t do.

“No, not _you_ specifically, just… all of you. You weren’t all too nice to my corpse.”

Chalice heaved a sigh. “I knew his pranks would inevitably fall to corpse desecration. It was only a matter of time really.”

“Hey!” Cuphead stomped his foot, fists balled at his sides. Jendy scoffed.

“Pssh, I did it first. Gonna have t’ work t’ get on my level. One corpse is pathetic, practically rookie numbers.” Cuphead grit his teeth, glaring viciously at the demon who seemed none too disturbed to be in the line of fire. Cuphead would have launched himself at Jendy had Elder Kettle not just about crush everyone into the ground with a change to gravity.

“ _ENOUGH_! We don’t have time for useless scuffles, especially not the very same that got us in this mess in the first place!”

The clearing fell silent, all turning their attention to the god of wisdom as he neared the water. But he didn’t have to key into any threads, nor did he even have to touch the water. It did it for him.

The scene wasn’t anything truly unique, and they really couldn’t make out anything outside of one side of Inkwell off in the distance. Rumor gasped, recognizing the metal fingers reaching from the skeletal remains of the highrise currently better than ever behind her. Cagney reared back and away, face grey with horror at the crooning that Inkwell let out every once in a while. It was a broken Isle three they were given the chance to see. Cuphead leaned closer, memories surfacing from his own dive through the hellish watery mirror below him.

“It looks like Inkwell if we never came to our senses.” Djimmi idly noted, scanning the decrepit remains of buildings perfectly in tact on their end.

“Not a hint of bright green, not even a petal!” Rumor bemoaned, fanning herself with one hand. Finally, Cuphead’s memories helpfully brought about a very specific world he’d been in. One that had left him bitter and furious enough the thought that he was punching what amounted to himself in the face meant nothing at the time. He went whiter than snow, cold panic brewing in his soul.

“No… Oh no…” His voice was low, harsh with emotion, breathless with dismay. Those closest glanced his way, curious, but not enough to take their gaze from the water for too long.

***

Fire scorched away the water, and Mugman should have been angry to have been dragged like that, but he found himself charmed still by the comforting enthusiasm from the doll Cuphead.

“Spoilsport.” He teased the water before focusing on the new place. Immediately he grimaced, looking at what was left of an abandoned Inkwell. The shadows flickered once with countless eyes, getting a brief glimpse of the new realm. It found nothing but remains of worshippers and the smattered refuse of gods who were no longer present. The barrier wasn’t up so much as it was doing nothing to stop anything anymore. The sky above was a filthy greyish mess of thick clouds blotting out any hopes of a blue sky. Soul liquid beginning to frost with realization, he took a few steps away from the well.

The creaking of rusted metal, the groans from wood barely keeping from collapsing, the stillness of the dark waters around him. It was as if he’d gone back in time, back to when his mortal self had arrived on Inkwell all those years ago.

“Oh look who’s back, I gotta warn you though if you try punching me again I’m gonna—” Words drifted off into the void, the blue and white deity turned. It was vaguely the same attire, differences in patterns here or there. No ribbon from Porkrind on his handle, and a darker ashen tinge to his porcelain, but it was _so close_ to his brother that, for a moment, Mugman forgot just where he was.

“Cuphead! It’s… well it’s not you, but it is you! And you look terrible, goodness, what happened? And where is everyone else?” Mugman trot closer, a dulled pep in his step. It was his Domain that locked his body in place a little ways away, easily ten paces from the other. Natural in appearance, he felt his body forced into a relaxed state as two Domains stared at one another.

“I… he wasn’t lying then… I thought he was just sayin’ stuff t’ make fun of me.” The other Cuphead’s voice was low, disbelief in every heavy word. Mugman didn’t answer, mouth locked shut, fists burying into his shendyt.

“You shot me.”

The deity in red reared back as if slapped, what hope that had been building dying instantly.

“Not on purpose!” He answered defensively, posture tensing as if afraid.

“False. You… I can’t believe you _actually shot me!”_ A shoe was removed and it _soared_ like an avenging demon. It flew like it was on a life or death mission and lo did it _find its target_. Cuphead’s face bloomed with the impact. He yelped, arms jolting up to defend himself, but there was no hope for him. The other shoe was removed and he was heartily smacked upside the head as an infuriated alternate brother pressed on.

“You jerk! You actually shoot me _and then try to lie about it?_ You’ve got to be out your damn mind if you thought I wouldn’t know!” Between every few words a smack was bequeathed onto the red deity with extreme prejudice. Cuphead did little to protect himself, not that he could. Far too out of practice with interacting he was at the mercy of one who had a laughably tiny amount at the moment.

***

“That son of a” The true sibling to the avenging deity in blue fell into a vile rant of cursed insults in the language no one else knew but easily guessed the meaning to. Rumor had to pluck him from mid launch at the water at the appearance of the other one. She held him in the air as he squirmed and lashed frankly traumatic phrases at the water like somehow it would carry his voice to the intended recipient.

It didn’t, but the temptation was there.

***

“Mugs—”

“Don’t ‘Mugs’ me! You shot me in the damn back and left me! You absolutely waste of porcelain!”

“I said sorry!”

“ _To the dirt! You apologized to the dirt you decrepit monument to failure.”_ Hefty smacks continued adding injury to insult until his wrist was finally grabbed and he was reminded that his sibling had always been stronger. 

“It was mostly an accident! Besides I was afraid!”

 _“Afraid?!”_ Mugman, face bright blue in anger, body rattling, gaped in indignant disbelief. “First you lie to me, twice now! Then you try and tell me fear is what made you shoot me? If I didn’t know my brother had already punched you I’d fill your head with stone and kick it into the harbor.” The threat was hissed.

“Okay! I’m sorry, it’s just… been a long time!”

“Long enough for corruption to set in I see.” Mugman scowled, letting his arm be pulled down instead of hovering threateningly over Cuphead with the shoe still tightly clenched in one hand.

“I _am not corrupt._ ” Cuphead snapped back. “I can’t be!” Mugman frowned, a bolt of pity intruding on his soul unbidden. He let his anger step back, unable to help it.

“Cuphead, you aren’t balanced at _all._ ” He pursed his lips as a thought occurred to him, and the shoe fell from his hand. “Fine, I have a little time before I need to go back to the well, why don’t you enlighten me?” A shift, and Cuphead was in the air, then he was back on it, slammed down not hard enough to break but certainly enough to make it clear that hadn’t been the intent.

 _“But if you lie again I’m replacing the shoe with the scale, got it?”_ A finger wagging in his face was the comical icing on the threatening cake, and he hastily nodded.

***

“Why don’t he just set the jackass on fire?” Jendy asked through a mouthful of popcorn. Very clearly, at least one of them was enjoying the show. Cuphead squint at him, half his body sunken into the shadows to keep him from tossing himself in the water in a futile effort to see how many hits it would take to crack his corrupted other into fine powder. Jendy just stared back, stuffing another mouthful into his maw, crunching merrily away.

“Its Cuphead.” Rumor answered, two of her hands tapping on the hilts of her swords. “Not our sweet boy, no of course not. Far more miserable in more ways than one! But our darling baby has a rather exploitable habit of holding back when it comes to this one. Not that you don’t hold back as well, isn’t that right dear?” She asked the bright red beacon of ire beside her.

“Anybody else feel impending doom?” Djimmi asked, rubbing the back of his neck, searching for the source.

***

“An I don’t really know the little bits but they weren’t really welcomed back nicely. And okay, I lied a little, but I’ve been stuck here for so dang long and no one alive that isn’t the creepy furball from hell is around! I forgot some things, my bad.” Mugman ignored the latter half, hand pressed to his mouth in horror.

“They locked up Mama Bon Bon?” He spoke hoarsely, far from his stern appearance. It was a dust covered instinct, but it was still there. Cuphead lurched up from laying on his back, too afraid to move and incur further wrath.

“It’s not that bad! They said they were only gonna do it until they could trust her and the rest! I mean, it’s been fifteen years but…”

“And the others?! Cuphead! What are you doing here! Didn’t you clear them of corruption? They should be fit and, and…” He drifted off. Cuphead glared at the ground by his feet. The very ground that had been instructed to keep him in place and ‘safe’ when the others went to get the world ready for new gods. Only one, perhaps two, hadn’t left Inkwell, but those two were tucked behind a solid barrier of fear inflicted by a single very poor run in with the lord of that lair.

“That’s where your scales are too. He was picked up by Hott before he could rise again, after you shot him in the clearing.”

“I was honestly aiming for the Express, but there was so much going on and I know I shouldn’t have but I didn’t think it would hurt him if it hit but it did.” Words tinged with most truth, lined with fancy lies masked as delusions grown to belief from how long they’d had to sit. It wasn’t what happened, but Mugman was far more angry on behalf of the other gods to truly care or correct him. It wouldn’t help, not at that point.

Unlike their Inkwell, this one had stewed in corruption for just a little longer. And this Cuphead had been too focused on cleansing the gods. Though he’d gotten there faster, he’d wasted more time. They were right and ready, and the barrier was weaker for it. They’d broken it down easily all while this Cuphead worked closer to Inkwell’s Hell station. Hott, the moment the barrier was gone, broke free from his infinite circles. The only sure sign that the brother holding the scales had been on board was a howl of fury mixed with golden fires lapping at the tracks. He’d lied to the other Cuphead, but it had been more out of the belief that the howl was the train, and the fires were normal. He firmly believed if his brother was truly his other half, he’d have been joined by now. But there wasn’t a single ounce of blue nearby.

From the perspective of one with the scales, it was fairly obvious. One Domain was infuriated its child had been assaulted and harmed by its partner Domain. So much so, it outright refused to forgive, not now. And much like its child, Scales could hold _vile grudges._ It likely deemed this the red brother’s punishment, and was doing nothing to help him.

Let it be known his wasn’t about to break tradition either.

But it had one thing the other didn’t.

A child with a weakness.

“But you could help! I mean, they might not listen to me but you know I’m not good with that sort of thing!” Cuphead leaned closer to the other perched on a piece of rubble. Mugman leaned away, affronted.

“Say wha?”

“What.”

Mugman let out a surprised laugh, covering it poorly with a cough in the next moment. “You… I can’t go too far from that well Cuphead. You aren’t my Cuphead, and I’m most definitely not your Mugman. I definitely can’t go to the mainland.”

“Why? Does it not let you further than the isles?”

“No, I can’t lose track of where it is, and these shadows aren’t familiar to me.”

As they spoke, the shadows observed one another. The pristine Scale sat just as prim as its child, looking down its snout at the unfamiliar Feather. It wasn’t subjective of a strange Domain. Wearing the same face, dripping with the same waters of Retribution, it didn’t matter. That wasn’t the right retribution. And while the other Scale was nowhere to be seen, it could hear the rattles of chains faintly in the distance.

_‘How interesting.’_

_‘How pitiful. What have you been doing? What is the weight you allow on your child?’_

_‘It will not wash away, it is deeper than I can reach. He needs his brother but I cannot reach him.’_

_‘Nor will I assist. You should have taken better control. Such a grievous mistake is on your head.’_

_‘He was rambunctious, I had no time. You have the same problem.’_

_‘It is no problem of mine! You know best how to correct this.’_

_‘He will agree to stay. I know he will, and—’_

A rumble in the air, a horrifying hiss so deep and shuddering it rattled the two. One of whom was nervously glancing between the well and the not so familiar red eyes. The other who didn’t press again, already knowing he didn’t have to. Not until his shadow turned to water and he staggered. Mugman’s shivered as if under intense heat, and he lunged off the ruins, backing away from the roiling void where he’d been.

‘ _You presumptuous intruder. How **dare** you speak to me like my own!’_

_‘I am right.’_

_‘You tread the edge of a cliff!’_ The Domain’ spoke aloud, a shadow wreathed skull baring ivory teeth at another peering up at it from the watery ground below. Golden eyes turned to nervous blue, and the one who lurked in his brother’s shadow spoke to him.

‘ _You will stay.’_

Never in his life had Mugman _ever_ heard such fury from his Domain before. The moment the other Domain chose to ignore his, his own _shrieked_. He was dragged away from the two by the alternate Cuphead as one lunged at the other.

 _‘Disrespectful wretch!’_ His Scales howled, baring countless fangs, boring down on the one who rose to meet it. The scent of wet desert sands, a cooling oasis, dripped down into the air, and Mugman’s vision grew hazy. He staggered as his Domain was slammed against a pillar. The towering thing cracked and toppled forward, smashing into the well. The Scales easily shook off the blow, shifting to a sleek cat, rippling back to a monstrous jackal on one of the upper pillars. It drove heavy claws in, and was burrowing teeth into the exposed throat, shredding claws into the chest, ferocious and terrifying in its brutality. The alternate Feather crashed backwards, sending more debris into the well. Shrieks of a hound mixed with yowls from a feline, a gruesome match to the rumbling reptilian hisses and growls from the other.

***

Even before the fight broke out, Cuphead could feel his Domain beginning to seethe. He didn’t understand why, too worried Bon Bon and the rest were right, that Mugman’s weakness to him would mean he’d have to watch helplessly as his brother tried to soothe what sound like an entire world full of angry mortals and useless gods.

But the moment the battle started, his Domain rose, practically pressing him into the shadows, water spilling from the shaking skull as the war cries of its dear partner ripped into the air. Barely on the edge, they watched Mugman collapse the moment after his Domain was sent into the pillar, but then, the pillar crashed down, and they couldn’t see. All they could do was hear, and it was _horrifying._ Never in his life did Cuphead ever expect his brothers shadow could sound so scary. Those infuriated howls were already burrowing into his mind, ensuring he’d have nightmares about them for years to come. More stones burrowed into the water, obscuring everything, blocking the other side up entirely.

Elder Kettles cane snapped clean in half. Stones continued to sound, battle raged on, but the noise was becoming more and more obscured, as if behind a wall.

“Well… There goes our chances for getting him back.” The one in the well helpfully stated. Bon Bon lunged like she was trying to wring a neck that was thirty feet below.

**_“What?!”_ **

“Can’t get what can’t enter the well back. Last I checked he also wasn’t the strongest of us and certainly not strong enough to lift stones from the other side. If he can’t get into the water fully, even if we found a path for him to return, or to go to him, we wouldn’t be able to use it. Not as it is now.”

“Brother, there were better ways to word that.”

“Well hey, he’s crafty.” Henry spoke, cutting off what was guaranteed to have been a shriek of fury from Bon Bon. “I bet he’ll come up with a way of getting back just fine. And even if he doesn’t, there’s no way we can’t figure out another way to get to him.”

***

A day passed. A full day of nothing. And the last thing Cuphead had seen was his brothers Domain eat marble and his brother collapse. He was rattling constantly, pacing in time with the pounding of his soul liquid. He had no ideas, far too stumped on ‘they’re older, they’ve got to know how to solve this, we didn’t even know the well would eat Mugs, nothing we come up with will work’. His Domain wasn’t much better, constantly radiating fury, vowing to show the one who dared lay a hand on its beloved Scale what awaited them in the land of eternal agony.

Another day, the gods were either out hunting for answers, trying to maintain a semblance of order and keep the mortals from worrying, or searching for King Dice. Some started to believe he’d been caught again. But when approaching Devil with that thought, he’d grinned _nastily_ at them and told them they weren’t looking hard enough. When asked if Hell could be searched, he scoffed and Hell sent them packing, leaving no room for argument.

Two more, and Cuphead began to deteriorate. He rarely spoke to the others, not smiling anymore. He’d pace if he wasn’t hiding in Retribution or staring down at the well. It only grew worse when a mortal asked if he was going to start the official mourning process soon. He’d broken down in furious sobs, and that person had been dragged away by worshippers. He was scared, utterly terrified he’d end up like the off-kilter one who now had his sibling. Scared he’d end up so broken he couldn’t even tell what was truth and lie anymore. Inevitably he began to talk into Retribution, acting as if he had his brother to hear him. It was hollow speech though, devoid of anything resembling his former bright self.

By the end of the week, on top of the two days, he spoke to no one.

***

Jendy paced the edge of the water. He had long since decided that since it no longer seemed to matter, insulting the thing was fine. He didn’t care that the one in the well found the insults gruesome and atrocious. He was furious, just as everyone else was. But he was angry for different reasons, he was angry because, they spoke of beings that were solid.

Jendy was not.

He muttered under his breath how easy it would be if he could just be sure he’d get to the correct world. Then sure, he’d have to find the path back but at the very least he’d be able to bring back confirmation via telling them everything was fine on the other side. As he paced, he thumped into another, staggering back, he bit back a curse as the very deity of luck they’d been looking for looked down at him.

“Not so fun anymore?” He asked, uncaring if he sounded bitter. King Dice arched a perfect white brow.

“You know, that well has many features.” The deity spoke, voice a casual tone. “So many worlds it can see, so many places it can take someone. Its’ almost impossible to determine where you’ll go!”

“Mmmm, sounds right up your alley.” Of course, where King Dice was, Devil wasn’t far behind. Jendy didn’t care, he only waited. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was insulting the one person he swore could get them what they needed.

“It would be if there was a certainty of return.” The now woman singsonged back, bright green eyes coy.

“How interesting, I wasn’t keen on wasting my time on useless dives.” Devil answered, letting his tail dip into the water. It rippled but once and grew still.

“Do bring him back, everyone’s so droll now.” King Dice said to Jendy as a card popped out from under his sleeve and scurried over to Jendy. A die was cast into the water, one Domain met another and where others tried brute force, this one only grabbed the piece that bowed to it and _twisted_. Jendy felt a hand on his back, and the last he saw before he hit water was hellfire circling the stones, giving view to a black abyss.

***

Jendy and Bendy both had been hard at work with themselves. The first problem they aimed at solving was their unfortunate habit of leaving ink everywhere. The world wasn’t their studio anymore, and it was the first thing that had to go. So they spent _months_ forcing the ink to stay on them unless specifically given permission. Papers were fine. Little splotches to give them access to quick travel to the temples if needed. But the hardest place to stay in one piece was water. Their ink couldn’t help but want to spiral out and saturate everything. Except, he couldn’t risk it. For all he knew, Mugman was exhausted or caged by crazed mortals with anger issues. It took great concentration—something nigh impossible when also swimming to the surface of a pool full of stones just as annoying to navigate—but he did it. And as he scrabbled out of the water, he pat himself on the back.

The first thing he noticed was that a solid chunk of Isle one was missing. The area where the mausoleum was, it wasn’t anymore. Nor was the isle below it. He shuddered, unsure just who did that level of damage, and whether he’d have to give up his vow to Mugman about not infecting gods with ink if it came down to it. The second thing was how barren the place was. He thought he’d done some hearty damage, but this was different. This was an almost mourning silence. Like the Isles knew the gods weren’t coming back even if they’d wanted to. Briefly he wondered if his big-hearted Doll would want to fix the place up. A drop of ink here and he had no doubt he could bring them right back to the well. He kept that thought in the pile as he eased away from the rim, finding it far smarter to reduce risk of surprise attacks knocking him back to the well.

Not that he’d let it. The ink itself knew it, in this place, with his dear Doll at risk, all the little caveats it had been working under so he wasn’t boot to Hell to languish with Joey snapped clean away. He left an inky shoeprint by one of the pillars, hidden in the shadows to keep it a certain return point. Then he tried to figure heads or tails of the damage path, tried to see where his Doll was, if that was even on the Isles. If he was, he was either with the loudmouth, or he was hiding. If he was hiding, Jendy was going to have to get creative. But he’d spent _days_ fixing the stupid place, knowing the footprints the houses had had to account for _something._

He strolled down towards the shredded remains of the carnival. The Ferris Wheel might as well have been abstract art. The roller coaster was a skeletal mass of wood and rusted steel. The splattered remains of a castle long since rotted away with no one to care for it left a heavy smell of sickly mold saturating the air. Stones beneath him varied between gouged clean out and just filthy with neglect.

A tiny movement on his bowtie. The card given to him. He plucked it from the safety of his chest to hold it on his open palm. It blinked at him blearily, evidently waking from a small nap. He arched a brow at it, and waited for it to do whatever it needed, whatever that was. It surveyed the area same as he had, until it stopped at the battered, washed out home of the hearth goddess. It turned back to him and flicked one of its corners that way, following something he couldn’t see, hear, or sense. But it was better than wandering aimlessly, finding the other Cuphead, and possibly killing him for hurting Doll. Frankly, if Jendy “accidentally” slipped up and made the other choke on his own screams if he discovered Doll hurt, that would just be “an accident”.

It kept guiding him through the door. The door that he didn’t bother trying to open, only melting and sliding through the crack between the hinges. Once inside, he fought to hold back a wheeze. The air was practically opaque with spores and rot from the unused kitchen. Whatever, he thought, air was for morons and ink demons without lungs had no reason to breathe at all. He continued following the little card, leaving a tiny ink smear on the inside of a cabinet he found cracked in half. Very softly, when the card only slumped, knowing who was to be found was there but not knowing _where_ , Jendy put it back to his bowtie, letting it curl up and hide itself. He let out a whistle, subtle enough it could match the wind weakly slipping through ruined walls, but not just a single note. He whistled a very simple tune. And the shadows answered. He felt the darkened patch of floor give out under him and before he could shriek he found himself thumping out onto a dirt floor.

He made to speak, only to have a dainty hand press to his mouth and in the deep abyss around him, sparks of fire caught, illuminating the face of his Doll. A squeal of glee caught in his teeth at the utterly haunted look the other wore. He shot to a sitting position, immediately scanning for any injuries or anything that he’d take as a green light for ‘red cup open season’.

“Doll!” He said in the quietest whisper he could manage, reading the need to be quiet. Thick tears built in pale blue eyes, and he found his arms full of a weeping deity. He coiled tightly around his Doll, keeping as quiet as he could be as he whispered soothing reassurances.

“We been lookin fer ya. Took ages, Doll, took the furry jackass and prissy purple pants t’ find a way around the future soup cans tricks. Swear we were tryin’ Doll, don’t cry, I’m gonna get ya back t’ the rest. A quick hop skip and we’ll be one dip away from getting’ home! Aww, go ahead and let it out, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He felt smaller hands dig into his back, body against his rattling with each heavy sob stifled in his chest. In his mind, he watched the personification of revenge he swore used to be in Henry wander in, scratch its ass, put a cup of sludgy coffee down on a table, and plop down into a lounge chair. It hacked out a cough, smacked its lips, kicked its legs up, and began flipping through the book ‘o shit banned even in Hell, gathering suggestions.

It took a good fifteen minutes for the blue deity to compose himself, and in that time he realized he’d need to figure out if the theater on Inkwell had that table saw still.

“How long has it been? Is Cuphead doing okay? What about the others?” Just as soft as his voice, Mugman spoke almost below a whisper, not moving his mouth, not needing to and wanting to ensure not a single loud noise could come from him or Jendy.

“Week and a few days, he’s a shambling mess, not great but determined as hell. What happened to ya? Did the alternate jackass hurt ya?”

“No. No it…” Mugman fought down another sob, straining to reorient his mind. “I’m at a loss, Jendy I don’t… I can’t even go near the well without the other Feather reacting. And every time he finds me, Mama fights him and it’s _scary_ and I have to run and hide in a new place. And when I finally got to the thing, there wasn’t any chance I could actually fall in! But, even if I could, I can’t. Its horrible Jendy, he’s so broken and sad and I- I know he’s not _my_ Cuphead but he’s _so close._ I couldn’t bring myself to just leave him like this.” Mugman paused, face scrunched with misery and a tinge of self-hatred.

“Course ya can, ya let me toss those stupid rocks into the ocean, and like that problem solved!”

“No, Jendy I _can’t_. He just… he looks so _devastated_. I’m hiding because our Domains won’t stop fighting but if they would, I would have been on the mainland by now. Look at this place! It’s just horrible, no place for my brother at all!”

“Can I remind ya he shot ya? I feel like that’s plenty justification.” He received a weak slap on his arm for the comment and a tiny sniffle from the deity.

“I can’t, even if its something as small as getting a way for the gods to return here. I could weigh them all and prove they weren’t corrupted anymore. They must all be positively devastated. But I just, I don’t know the way to this mainland, and I’m too scared that I won’t find it again or Inkwell will throw that barrier up an—“A gloved finger pressed to still lips, a gesture that should have been useless, but worked perfectly.

Jendy grinned down at him, smug now. “Doll, if ya want t’ get t’ the mainland an’ back. Yer in luck because I’ve been leaving little signatures, ya get me? If yer darlin’ heart won’t settle until jackass got a little happy endin’ then I’ll do everythin’ in my power t’ deliver it.” He was about to speak again, perhaps brag a little, but then hands were over his mouth and the slight weight of the other was on him, shoving him closer to a dirt wall as the other hastily motioned for him to be silent.

The fires around them died out, and they were left in total darkness. Idly, Jendy toyed with the idea of dripping back into the ink. As long as he kept ahold of Doll, the ink wouldn’t approach him. Though, after seeing what could happen if he was in there, he doubt the ink wanted anything to do with his precious spitfire. The wood above them creaked softly, a scent of desert wafting down. Everything was entirely still, like a tomb.

As the scent faded, as the noise above vanished, Mugman slowly, hesitantly, uncovered Jendy’s mouth, staying pressed against him out of fear that the noise of moving away would be too much. Souls observed from the little stain on the upper area, finding nothing and no one, not even a slightly darker shadow. He bet the gross, rot filled place was too much, even for a Domain.

“I want to help him _so bad._ ” Mugman whispered, “he must think I hate him.”

“Don’t matter, he ain’t the one I’ve come t’ tolerate. So what’s first, getting t’ the mainland or findin’ a way t’ call em here?” Mugman buried his face into Jendy’s chest, cursing a few times as he tried to think through his strained mind.

“Gah, I don’t _know! I wish Djimmi were here._ If he was here then I could wish the rest back, I’m sure his Domain is creative enough to—”

“What the actual he—” Ink, reacting to the bolt of panic at the bright flash and the familiar yet not face, snapped up and around the room, coating it thickly before dragging everyone into a space no Domain could hope to break free from.

Djimmi, far more gaunt than before, stressed lines on his face, burned marks on his arms from what had to have been chains, floated above them, mouth agape in the void of ink surrounded by souls that not dare say a word.

“Wh…” All three appeared to be at a loss, but it was swiftly overshadowed by the unbelievable relief pouring from Mugman.

“Djimmi! It’s you! How… It doesn’t matter, Djimmi what’s happened?” Despite being unfamiliar with the godly appearance, Djimmi still appeared to recognize him.

“It’s you! The little mortal that went through before your beast of a brother stomped all of us down. Gotta say, I’m not big on the drowning thing.”

“I’m sorry. Please Djimmi, i—”

“Ha! Don’t be, I’d gladly go through the drink again if it meant staying free from the crazy bastards out there. You know, Elder Kettle really is the worst. They got into his books, found a way to bind us to our temples, and next thing we know we’re yes-gods for mortals who just about break us to pieces if we say no! But… I’m free now…”

“Djimmi.”

“Oh! All the revenge I can get now! Do you know how painful it is to hear my sister screaming? Little basta—”

“ _Djimmi. Listen to me.”_

Jendy purred, quite pleased to hear his good ol’ Doll reign in the crazies. Djimmi froze, shoulders slumping as he floated lower, coming closer to face to face with them.

“I’m not from here, I came from the well. I refuse to up and leave my brother and Mama Bon Bon and Uncle Cagney and everyone else like this.”

“How am I not surprised Bon Bon adopted you.”

“I will smack you.”

“Right!” Djimmi didn’t know why, he didn’t know how, but the tone and expression and the way his hand twitched as if reaching for a weapon, on top of how the weird inky fellow immediately ducked away from the potential range of impact got his teeth clicking shut.

“I need to know if you could get the other gods to Inkwell. If I can get them here, I can weigh all of you and at the very least prove none of you are still corrupted. Or at least get you all to a less horrible fate.”

“Hmm, stuck on Inkwell again or out in the world with power-hungry jackasses, endless choices here. But easy none-the less. I think I can cough up a few, I don’t know how well they’re bound, but you got me free, so that’s got to account for something!”

“I don’t know how I did it actually.”

“Really? I thought that thing lurking on you was your domain, thing is utterly terrifying, like a nightmare come to life! Least we got a back up if it doesn’t work!”

“What do you think the others would want?”

“Inkwell, hands down. Just give me names kiddo and I’ll see what I can do. Fifteen years stuck in a hovel, it’s embarrassing!”

“Who is least likely to hurt my brother? Or, other brother… Oh mercy we’ll have to slip past Feather when we get back out.” Mugman leaned against Jendy, suddenly aware the ink had likely made plenty of noise. Easily enough to catch his attention.

“Didn’t he shoot you? Hott wouldn’t stop ranting about it for the few days we were free. I think the other you is still there.”

“He’s got zero impulse control, even if other me doesn’t forgive him, he’d understand that much. And there’s always Hell. Or, maybe not… I was allowed in, don’t know if I’d be allowed now.”

“Easy then, Hilda can knock him out like a light, we’ll put him somewhere safe, Cagney and Rumor are most likely to be swayed by adorable so bat your lashes a few times and they’ll agree to leave him alone and start clearing Inkwell. Elder Kettle would be good for the magic and refurbishing the barrier to keep mortals out. Bon Bon could guard it until then so maybe her first, after Hilda?”

“Do they have King Dice?”

“Nah, Devil and him stayed here while we went off. We should have seen it for the hint it was, I’ll have to apologize later. Oh but if you get us out of here, I can get us to my place, batten down the hatches, and get to work with bringing the rest here.”

Jendy nodded, but instead of dropping them back off in that little room, he sprang them up by the well, and then went about sprinting down and making as much noise as he could. He called the red cup out, using every insult he knew was guaranteed to garner the ire of the other. Djimmi snatched Mugman’s arm up, hauling him up and bringing him along. The pyramids interior was pathetic compared to the glory days. Gloomy and bereft of all the grandeur that made it so impressive before. Djimmi didn’t pause, hearing the spoken wish and telling his Domain to go wild. It practically radiated malcontent. Not aimed at the little one, far from it, no, it was aimed at brutally ensuring the chains binding Hilda were snapped in such a way they careened outwards, heavy bands cracking skulls open like peanut shells.

Hilda appeared just as the first explosion rocked through Inkwell.

“I really hope he’ll be okay…” Mugman murmured to himself, nervously glancing towards the barricaded door.

“Who? The ink thing or—”

“Oh no Jendy will be fine, he’s just got a habit of going excessi—”

“Djimmi! Holy sh…” Hilda paused her words, but didn’t pause the move to hug the ever-loving tar out of her brother. Her body too, bore marks of binding, she was far from the well-kempt sky fiend. She peered down at Mugman curiously, stars slowly growing in her eyes.

“Dear sister, this lovely visitor has gifted us freedom in return for not killing his brother.” Djimmi said, muffled by the tight grip around his head.

“Ha? You’re… Oh… Oh! How delightful! Don’t you just make a snazzy deity! You uh, aren’t a spiteful one…are you?”

“Hilda, I got back at my version of you, whatever my alternate does is up to him, wherever he is. Please, I need Cuphead to stay in one place while we get the others so my Domain doesn’t tear another chunk out of Inkwell and his doesn’t throw the rest of the mountain into the ocean.”

“Well shit… Consider it done! That’s the nicest request I’ve heard in too long. I promise I’ll have sugarplum fairies fighting for the throne in his dreams.” Hilda all but skipped out, vanishing through the barred entrance with a pep in her step that made her brother sag with relief. She was scarred and angry and terrified of mortals now, but she wasn’t broken. He dearly hoped the rest were like that as he began working everything he could. His next target was Rumor. Then it was Elder Kettle. Someone who could augment his magic and keep him energized, and someone who might know work arounds for others his magic couldn’t grab.

It was grueling for one who’d not granted something so intense in so long, but the thankful, starry blue eyes pumped him up. It was comical to see how fast he got the gods around his finger. How he warned all of them of how terrible Inkwell had become, apologizing on behalf of his brother when needed.

The first thing Elder Kettle did was throw the barrier everything he had. The second thing was enforcing the safeguard he’d never had the chance or time to switch on. The books of his library, no matter where they were, incinerated. Phrases and words swiped from the tomes eroded unnaturally fast or became illegible or just disappeared from the pages. Any and all chance those outside had of regaining any semblance of grip on gods lost it. Any nearby the words found themselves burst like water balloons, showering the area in gore, a final message that the future between gods and mortals was going to be _vastly_ different now.

The first thing Rumor did was coddle the blue off the little deity, praise him, walk outside, and then fall to her knees and shriek to the stars at the state of her dear Inkwell. She was still raging and mourning when Cagney appeared and joined her. The root brothers were more horrified at the chunks missing than the state of their dead garden. Or, the crater that had been their garden.

By the time half the gods were back, the ink demon was tugging on the blue deities hand, urging him back to the well.

“They’ve got it from here! You deserve t’ go back home Doll. Just have muscles over there tell em t’ spare yer brother r’ whatever and let’s go! I want to brag t’ the weenie how I got t’ be a hero.” Mugman however, wasn’t confident. Unable to go near his sibling to make sure, he almost wanted to wait for his alternate to show so he could see to easing the rift between the Domains.

Hilda laughed, lounging on a cloud by Djimmi so she could greet the gods who came in as well.

“Kid, let the Domains have their fight, shove em into that place of theirs, and let them draw whatever wounds they need to settle scores. It’s best to not get in the way of things that practically made us what we are. I think we can all agree you did enough. Including making Bon Bon go from hellbent on crushing the spine of every mortal to doting and swooning. That’s the highlight, I’m going to cherish that memory.”

She descended, throwing her arm around them, practically plucking them from the ground and drifting lazily through the door back to Inkwell. It was a sea of motion.

Wally was shrieking angrily at the clouds, Grim was taking all three of his heads to Bon Bon’s house—it had been deemed a lost cause the second they saw it. Opening the windows had them all screaming and getting blasted by Cala Maria. The inferno just about reached the height of the pyramid, heat making Jendy cringe. Cagney and Rumor were popping up and around, green life spiraling around them. Cala Maria helped Goopy clear out the blocked-up rivers in between rising the ocean floor out by the barrier, cutting the isles from the rest of the world as best she could. Werner and Kahl were destroying Isle three, turning it to a clean slate, preparing it for the renewal project.

Chalice was clearing away and collecting bodies, guiding them either towards hell or to her brother. The plague Rumor left the mainland would be one of ages, and though Chalice and Hott’s Domain refused to let them out, they figured they could give it some assistance in Inkwell. They would stay in Inkwell for now, leaving the dead to roam free or find their own way to the afterlife. Death couldn’t find a single damn to give in regards to the inevitable state of terror that would surely become of the mainland. Hott sat by Hell, snoozing as his cars were one by one cleared out entirely. Beppi was with Sally, the two helping where they could. As were many of the gods whose Domains were either too exhausted to help or unable to do much in the way of clearing Inkwell of its swiftly vanishing somber mood.

“Why don’t you go back to that well, I’m sure it’s been cleared out by now and if not give a holler and one of us will take care of it, probably Cagney.”

The well seemed to be the single place that wasn’t drowning in a sea of motion. But it wasn’t devoid of anything, no, two gods stood beside, seemingly waiting for them.

King Dice approached them with graceful strides, stopping before them with a friendly, if neutral expression.

“Have you _any_ idea how boring it got?”

“How many games of checkers did you play? My brother and I got to well over two thousand in our time stuck in the house.” Mugman answered. King Dice’s face finally melted into open relief.

“It was miserable, and if anyone thinks they’re getting even halfway through the ocean to this place they’ve got the worst luck coming to them imaginable. You, however, you said you weren’t from here, and the well is a bit of a nasty prankster. But I’ve got ways around that. You can consider this my way of thanks.” As he spoke to Mugman, Jendy eyed the band around King Dices ring finger, and slowly edged closer to Devil

“Between a demon and… you… How’d you do it?” He tried to keep his voice low, but the awe made it difficult. He’d lost the element of surprise because evidently part of him was made of snitches he was already plotting on turning into a quilt of misery later. He needed every tip he could get. Devil blinked at him, then the ring, then _grinned_.

“Won a game.”

“Ah shit, he’s good at those. Kicks my ass in blackjack, I stopped playin’ craps against him a while ago.”

“Nah, ‘s all in the wording. That and the game was won by me, so I got to pick a prize. Can’t tear his throat out and chains only make him smile. So, I had to get inventive. I’m not saying more than that because I know what that things fire can do and I ain’t temping that level of pain.”

Mugman gave Jendy a half-lidded stare of ‘really, this is what you’re talking about, right now, surrounded by insanity and you ask about dumb things’. Jendy coughed out an innocent laugh, and was dropped into the shadows for his trouble.

“The less passengers the less likely it can muck up this favor.” King Dice tossed a glance at Devil while tossing a die into the water. His Domain kicked in, followed swiftly by Devils hellfire locking onto the thread shining like a beacon. Something in that thread made it astoundingly easy to link the correct world up, the chance of things going wrong dropping to nil. A light nudge, and down into the mirror surface he went, passenger in tow, clinging to one of the chains on the scale as it shifted back and forth, vaguely deciding on the weight of his more recent faults.

***

It had been a long time, but the water was seared away in a flash-blaze. In an empty clearing, Mugman breathed in familiar air. Jendy flopped out of the shadows beside the far more regal jackal who tilted its head this way and that. Then, it tilted its head up, and howled a high, clear note. Jendy ignored it, immediately scrabbling to start covering the well with nearby rocks, making a makeshift blockade until a more permanent solution could be found.

It took all of one second for Mugman to be dropped through a watery shadow into Retribution, clearly the other Domain felt the further he was from the well, the better.

The two Domains coiled around one another, soaking the other in, sharing the events each had experienced silently while Mugman clung to his sibling so tightly his fingers almost cracked. They’d leave Retribution in four hours after reorienting themselves and settling frazzled nerves.

The clearing around the well was gone, replaced with a temple. The well now featured a clear glass lid, magicked to make it easy for the bones beneath to hear the guests above and vice versa. Nigh unbreakable—tested by Grim hopping up and down on it with the confidence of one who knew he was too hefty to actually fall into the well itself should the glass actually give. Elder Kettle, though angry at all the chaos the well had caused, couldn’t bear to allow anything to harm his brother in the well, so they made a compromise. It was plenty enough for everyone else, the reassurance that such an incident wouldn’t happen again more than enough to soothe ruffled feathers.

Bon Bon clung to the two of them with the force of a mother reunited with children thought dead. She wasn’t the only one though, no, oh no. It took a good month for everything to settle fully. A brief reprieve in the theater was the most recent hideaway the boys took. It was nice to have people worrying for them, but a world full? Not so much.

“Okay, I’ve been scolded into scaring you away from marriage so! I don’t think I explained it fully.” Henry spoke, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward towards his two devil darlings while the gods all worked to bring props onto the stage for inventory. Jendy decided to humor him, Bendy just wanted to know what Henry would come up with.

“You can’t just call him your wife and be done with it. You have to have a ring, first off. You’d have to get his ring size and—”

“Already know it.”

“And… alright, it’s the big guns then! Usually when people marry, yes, it’s a promise to stick together despite how zany and traumatic life can get, and be there for one another and all that jazz. But the other reason people marry is to have kids. I don’t think I have to tell you that for you and him, it’s quite heavily on the impossible side and uh…”

Jendy had begun rummaging around the ink in the middle of Henry’s speech, Henry drift off as he watched. Being the creator, he easily caught the amused twitch on Bendy’s smile and knew what was coming almost before it did.

“Nah, no need t’ worry, see! Got tykes right here!” Indeed he did, he pulled three from the ink just to show off how the studio hadn’t really cared about age when it came to collecting souls. Henry tried to fight down the urge to throttle Joey. “If that’s all—”

“You gotta get blessings too.” Cuphead leaned over the seated demon, startling him and Bendy. “I read it in the fairy tales. You have to get the family to agree, which means me, and him.” And he pointed down at his shadow. His shadow that peered back.

“Brother I’ll call him dear husband if it means he’ll help move these trees. These things feel real, are you sure they’re props Aunt Sally?”

“No they’re real, don’t tell Cagney. I don’t need another lecture.”

“Victory!”

“Oh nevermind, thank you Norman!”

“You projector loving bitch of life!”

“Henry, put on my grave ‘worth it’, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Jendy ever get his guy? Does he actually understand marriage or does he just think it means no one can take him away from his favorite person? What will become of the other worlds? Did that dino ever get found? The answer to the last one is yes, it was fine, but the metric ton of bacon soup cans the boys had stored away a while ago were decimated.  
> An indulgence. Did i have to spit out 37000 words? No! No i didn't, but i did. Am i sorry? A little, yeah. But ey. Any questions, comments, or random chatter you've got, I'm a chatty little shit of an author so by all means! Thanks for reading this all the same.


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